Sehnsucht
by storm101
Summary: Fifteen years ago, the thief Kurama died at the hands of the SDF. His partner-in-crime Kuronue vanished and is presumed dead. Now, a trio of thieves has broken into the Reikai vaults to steal the Artifacts of Darkness and the new Spirit Detective Yusuke has been sent to apprehend them. New information sets two old friends on the path to reuniting-if only Shuuichi could remember. AU
1. An Ending

See end of chapter for notes.

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 _Sehnsucht (n.): German._ "The inconsolable longing in the human heart for we know not what"; a yearning for a far, familiar, non-earthly land one can identify as one's home

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 **Chapter One: An Ending**

* * *

 _In Which a Career Comes To an Abrupt Close_

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Wind rustled through the highest tree branches and sent wisps of cloud scudding across the sickle shaped moon. Leaves chased after, weaving through and among themselves in fantastic patterns. Far below, the Tanaka estate lay silent, windows boarded against the threatening storm and the threat of thieves. Three days previous, a note had been found attached to the headboard of the master bedroom, warning that the mystical Poison's Bane, safely locked in the Tanaka vaults, had become the target of thieves. Such threats would have been dismissed were it anything else pinning the note in place, and not a rose.

Now, two shadows perched on the roof of the main house, watching the newly-hired guards patrol the outer walls. The promised thieves had come.

"They're worried," one shadow murmured to the other. "Tanaka- _san_ has certainly spared no expense on protection." The man sounded pleased, rather than concerned.

"Not sure what else you expected when you left them a literal invitation."

What little moonlight there was glinted on fang as he flashed a grin at his partner. "Where's the fun, otherwise? They've tripled the guard. Now this might actually be a challenge." The grin tilted sideways into ruthless mischief. "I bet I can kill more than you."

The second man laughed almost soundlessly. "Usual terms?"

"But of course." A thicker cloud flowed across the moon, casting the estate into total darkness for a few seconds. When it passed, both shadows had disappeared.

Roughly two-dozen guards and four-dozen mercenaries noticed nothing as the two thieves slipped into the main house and towards the door to the vault. Here they encountered the first hint of troubles to come: the door was papered over with seals, black kanji stark against the white paper.

"More nervous than I expected," the first said. Silver hair glinted in the torchlight as he raised one hand towards the door, clawed fingertips scant inches from the wood. "This is _Reikai_ make, if I'm not mistaken."

"Thirty seconds until the next guard rounds that corner, Kurama," the second said, head tilted to one side as he listened intently. "Stop admiring the damned seal and break it already."

"The moment I do, alarms will sound. I wonder what Tanaka- _san_ forked over to _Reikai_ in return for this…"

"Twenty-five seconds."

"Fine. Switch." The pair exchanged places seamlessly, the darker shadow kneeling at the door and fishing a thin bundle of cloth from a pouch at his waist. The first took his place as guard, furry ears a shade darker than his hair swiveling as he listened.

Selecting two strips of metal—one long and oddly bent, the other thin and hooked—the thief set about picking the lock in tense silence.

Light spread upon the far wall, footsteps drowning out the soft click as the lock at last gave way. Without hesitation, both thieves slipped into the treasure room and closed the door behind them. Each man pressed an ear to the door, listening to the heavy footsteps as the pair of guards passed.

"Does this mean you admit I'm better at picking locks than you?" one said when the footsteps had faded.

"Not a chance, Kuronue." They exchanged quick grins, stepping further into the room. The vault was a small, windowless room, only a few paces across. A few scattered candles illuminated thieves and treasures, glimmering in eyes and jewels alike, washing hair and fine silk in highlights and shadow. Indeed, both intruders were handsome men, well matched to the beautiful and dangerous things they stole. Both wore their hair long; both stood tall; both were built for speed and agility rather than brute strength; both moved with silent grace. There the similarities ended.

Kurama's hair hung loose in a sheet of moonlight silver down his back and was crowned with pointed fox ears, the matching tail half hidden by the folds of his clothing. He wore white: a wrapped tunic, loose trousers, cloth slippers, and a belted sash, elegant in their simplicity. Amber-gold eyes surveyed the world from a pale, pointed face. Others often called the fox vain, or arrogant, but he dismissed it. He was beautiful, and brilliant, and there was no shame in being self-aware.

In contrast, Kuronue wore his midnight dark hair in a high tail that burst out of his hat—a ripped, wide-brimmed affair that he'd originally picked up as a trophy off some human witch he'd killed and kept because Kurama had more than once called it disgraceful and ratty. He wore no shirt, instead preferring a black leather vest that allowed his long, black wings their freedom. His arms were wrapped in straps of more leather. His trousers were tight, closer to leggings than pants, and half covered with knee high, sturdy boots. A long swathe of light blue fabric gathered and tied off at one hip covered the rest, and the ensemble was topped off with a necklace: a blood red jewel in a simple silver setting. He wasn't quite as pale (or classically, aristocratically handsome) as his partner, but he had half an inch on the fox that he never let him forget and which made up for any discrepancies as far as he was concerned.

The pair had been partners for centuries, and friends for almost as long. What one lacked, the other lent—when one faltered, the other supported. Their fame grew with each successful heist, and they remained near the top of _Reikai_ 's Most Wanted.

"Now," Kurama said, tapping one clawed finger against his lips. "Where is it..."

It took mere seconds for the thieves to locate their prize. The Poison's Bane was a serving tray made of gold, trimmed with intricately shaped faces and bones. Kurama found it stashed behind one of the chests, half covered in dust. Kuronue was less than impressed.

"We're risking our lives for a shiny clipboard?"

Kurama raised one eyebrow. "It can detect when tainted food is served upon it," he pointed out, wiping the dust from its face and spinning it in his hands to inspect. "I want to study the method it uses: whether it can detect sickness, if it is limited to toxins, if it's possible to apply that method to other things, if so, how, and, of course, how to circumvent it."

"I stand corrected," Kuronue sighed. "We're risking our lives for a shiny, _magical_ clipboard." He pressed one sensitive ear to the door, listening for any guard. "You're such a nerd."

"Kuro—"

" _If it's possible to apply that method to other things, and if so, how_ ," Kuronue mimicked quietly, shooting a shameless grin at the fox. "You know I love you, Kurama, but seriously. Nerd."

"Shut up!"

"We're stealing supplies for your science project. Shiny supplies. Expensive, valuable supplies. But supplies."

Kurama propped the serving tray on one hip and jabbed a finger at the door. "We're not done, yet. Focus."

Stifling another laugh, Kuronue lazily waved him off. "Focusing, focusing." There was silence for a few seconds. "It's clear."

"Good," Kurama said, and followed Kuronue into the corridor.

The instant the thieves crossed the threshold with prize in hand, alarms sounded. The thieves broke into a run—pausing to curse or in surprise could be fatal. A pair of _kusarigama_ shimmered into existence in Kuronue's grip, and he flung one out with a flick of the wrist. A window several yards down the corridor shattered. Without slowing, Kurama dived out the gap and into a forward flip, one arm tucking their prize to his chest, the other reaching up to his hair. He landed and sprung forward once again, racing towards the outer walls. His free hand caught and pulled, a thorny vine emerging from his hair and lashing through three guards who had been foolish enough to stop him. Blood and gore spilled out into the night, but not a drop landed upon the fox's clothes.

A beat behind his partner, Kuronue leapt up onto the window sill and used it as a launch board into the night sky, wings spread wide and fixed for gliding. Kuronue surfed the air currents for a few seconds, touched down in front of the fox for barely a breath before springing up again. The blades of his short-handled scythes glittered in the moonlight as he flung them down and ahead, slicing two more guards as they approached.

The pair matched pace as easy as thought, Kuronue soaring overhead as their vanguard, Kurama keeping his attention on the plants covering their retreat. They reached the outer wall in five minutes flat, just in time for the first wave of arrows. Kuronue dived down, landing in front of his partner, calling up a swirl of wind to throw the first barrage off course. Kuronue linked his fingers together and braced himself as Kurama put one foot into the makeshift step and let himself be launched high into the air and onto the high outer wall. The whip lashed out to clear the walkway of nearby guards as Kuronue sprung up to join him, using his wings to gain the extra height needed, and landed a split second before another hail of arrows, these from a group of archers still within the compound. Kuronue cursed himself for his carelessness. Archers were _his_ job, given the control he had over air. The small squad must have lain low, using their comrades as a distraction in order to escape notice and seize this thin chance. "Kurama!" he yelled the warning even as he landed and the winds spun around him, knowing he wouldn't manage all of them.

"Understood." For the first time since the alarm had been set off, the fox paused, straightening and glaring back towards the compound. With a shout, he flung one hand out, then down, and twenty odd arrows—dropped. As did Kuronue's jaw.

"How did you—"

The little quirk of Kurama's mouth was an expression that, to Kuronue's knowledge, only he had ever seen. It was the one that said _Oh, good, I wasn't entirely certain that would work_. Still, when he spoke, it was with the same arrogant confidence he always did. "Arrow shafts are made of wood. Wood is a plant. I can't reliably manage to control them because of their speed, but under certain circumstances…"

Kuronue whistled between his teeth. "Certain circumstances like panic?" He had _felt_ the ki wash out and down, completely unlike Kurama's usual slow-growth-on-speed impeccable control. Still. Seizing control of bits of pointy wood flying at your face was… well. "Not to pad your ego or anything, Kurama, but you're kind of a genius."

"Thank you, I kn—" The comment cut off in a strangled grunt. Kurama staggered, hand clutching reflexively at the black arrow embedded in his thigh.

"Kurama!"

"It's fine," he insisted, straightening again. His eyes were tight with pain and flat with anger. The offending archers were on the grounds now, visible and vulnerable. Kurama reached again, clawed fingers slowly tightening into a fist, and the carefully manicured lawns of the Tanaka estate were turned into a miniature forest of bamboo, swallowing the archers.

Kuronue grinned. "Vindictive, much?"

"If anything, bamboo is harder to stop growing." Kurama shrugged. "And it's everywhere around here. Besides, that _hurt_." The last word was almost a whine. Kuronue ducked under one arm and up, using his momentum and Kurama's momentary distraction to get them both off the damn wall before something else went wrong.

Kurama braced himself on the landing, only letting a grunt of pain to escape. They didn't have more than a few minutes before the guards fought their way through Kurama's bamboo grove. Kuronue still dragged him under momentary cover, kneeling to examine the arrow. "I'll have to cut it," he warned, beginning to tear off the edge of his sarong for a bandage. It would be slap-dash and messy, but it would stop the bleeding long enough to get them to the den where Kurama could treat it properly. "How many did you get?"

"Twenty-two was my last count."

"Seventeen, you mean. Five man handicap, you set off the alarm," Kuronue reminded him, gripping the arrow with one hand. "Press down."

"Twenty-seven not including the handicap, twenty-two including it," Kurama said. He followed the directions with a wince, gasping as Kuronue sliced through the shaft as close to the skin as he could. "You?"

"Damn, I only got twenty-one. You win." Kuronue grinned. "One confession and-slash-or admission is yours. I-promise-to-tell-the-truth-the-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-the-truth, etcetera."

"Admit I'm not a nerd."

"Can't, that's a retraction of a previous statement _and_ not the truth."

Kurama scowled at him briefly, but Kuronue was very good at recognizing the difference between Kurama's _I'm about fifteen seconds from turning you into fertilizer_ scowl and _I'm angry because I'm trying not to laugh_ scowl. "I'll think of something later, then." The momentary amusement faded as Kuronue started bandaging the leg. He was almost done when he finally spoke again. "We're getting more important."

"Yeah? How do you figure?"

" _Reikai_ interference. The door was warded, and those archers trained professionally. I suspect the SDF involved themselves, and you know they hate demons on principle. They'd never agree to work with Tanaka unless they had something more valuable to gain from it. And what did they have to gain tonight but us?"

"Huh. You're probably right." 'Probably' nothing, Kurama usually was, but he'd already called the fox a genius once tonight. "We should probably go to ground for a while, cover our tracks enough to get that wound properly treated, then head back to the den—"

"I can run," Kurama said.

Kuronue raised an eyebrow. "You'd say that whether it was true or not."

"I. Can. Run." Kurama repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine, you can run," Kuronue said, grabbing his arm and tugging him along. There was just no arguing with Kurama when he got like this. "Still got your science project?"

Kurama tilted it, what little moonlight there was gleaming along its surface. "Let's go."

So they ran, barely half a minute before the gates of the fortress opened, spilling demons with torches and spears and _more thrice-damned arrows_ , all shrieking and screaming in pursuit. Kuronue snarled, sending gusts of wind back to cover their retreat as best he could. He trusted Kurama. He did. If the fox said he could run, he would. He'd keep up.

Except he could hear Kurama's pained, uneven breathing, and he could hear his footsteps falling behind. Kuronue turned, ready to go back and carry the stubborn fool if he had to, but—

A flash of _reiki_ : side, not behind, how had they been flanked? A scream: pain, rage, defiance, terror, _I will not die here_ mingled with _run!_ The smell of burning blood. Empty amber-gold eyes, pupils blown wide with death.

It took three hours for the fury to fade enough for Kuronue to hear anything more than the blood in his ears. Logically, he knew this meant the red hazing his vision should recede now, too, but it didn't. It took a few moments for him to realize the red wasn't leaving because the red wasn't _his_ blood.

"Looks like I won that bet after all, fox…" Not that it really mattered. Judging by the tattered remains of the uniforms (the bodies were completely unidentifiable), Kurama had been right. The SDF had been involved, and they had set up a trap almost perfectly. Even if they'd escaped unscathed from the estate, they would have been ambushed before they'd gone more than a league. Neatly done, and it half-worked. Youko Kurama was dead.

Kuronue picked up the body and considered the pros and cons of joining him.

* * *

 **Glossary:**

 _-san:_ respectful honorific used to address someone of unspecific but greater authority, or someone of your standing that you don't know very well; something like "Mr." or "Ms." in English. Kurama here is using it sarcastically.

 _Reikai:_ "Spirit World." The realm where Koenma and Botan work and live.

 _kusarigama:_ A chain scythe. Most commonly a long handled scythe with a moderately curved blade attached to a long chain. A more accurate image of a _kusarigama_ can be seen in _InuYasha;_ Kohaku's weapon of choice is a _kusarigama._ I don't know what Kuronue uses in the movie, but this is the closest thing to an actual weapon I can find, and has been used by one or two other fic authors. Kuronue's scythes have larger, wider blades and a much sharper curve; the handle is also much shorter.

 _reiki:_ spirit energy; the energy used by agents of Reikai and humans; Botan, Kuwabara, Genkai, and Yusuke (pre-Chapter Black) all use _reiki_ to fuel their attacks or (in the case of Genkai and Botan) healing abilities.

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 **A note on Japanese as related to this fic:**

When I first discovered anime, I had a tendency to stick random Japanese into whatever fic I wrote purely for the pleasure of showing off what snippets of vocabulary I had picked up from watching subs or reading entirely too much fanfiction. Older and, presumably, wiser, I do not feel comfortable doing this anymore. When I first started this rewrite I had every intention of avoiding Japanese entirely and using only the "official" translations as seen in the dubbed anime or the licensed manga. Except the more I wrote, the more uncomfortable this made me. There are Japanese subtleties that English lacks, and vice-versa. After talking it over with a pair of very good, very old friends, (hi, guys! Thank you for once again indulging my obsessions!) I reached a compromise.

Instead of using an awkward English translation, I will use the Japanese word in italics. I will also use the Japanese format for names (family name first) and honorifics. A glossary will be included at the end of each chapter, should you not recognize a Japanese word (though most are used pretty commonly in this fandom, or can be deduced by context). However, I will not be using any Japanese words that DO have a straightforward English equivalent, especially in dialogue: no _baka,_ no _ahou,_ etc. Hopefully my decision makes some sense to most.

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 **A note on this fic in general:**

This is a rewrite of a story originally penned from 2007-2009 titled _This is How You Remind Me._ The only similarities are that Kurama died instead of Kuronue, and Minamino Shuuichi has no memory of ever being Youko Kurama. If you are absolutely curious about the sort of writing I produced during sophomore and junior year of high school (when the fic was primarily written), feel free to investigate. It is immature at the very best, and I'd much rather you stick with me on this story, but if you have to know, I won't (and can't) stop you. I'm leaving the fic up purely for archival purposes. Unlike my former attempt, I've actually outlined this fic and know the direction I want it to take. Between that and having written almost 25K words for it in two weeks (which is how long it was originally), I feel much, much more confident in my ability to actually finish this one.

The original version was slash (or yaoi, as you prefer) between Kurama and Kuronue. This rewrite probably will be as well, but the romance is definitely not meant to be the focus of it, and will take a very long time to build. All other pairings will be canon.

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 **Obligatory disclaimer** : Yu Yu Hakusho is the intellectual property of Togashi Yoshihiro, Shueisha Inc, Fuji Television, Yomiko Advertising, Studio Pierrot, Viz, and Funimation Entertainment (phew!). I have no genuine authority whatsoever over these characters. I'm just borrowing them.

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And finally, obligatory begging for reviews! If you liked the first chapter, drop me a line; I'm friendly and opinionated and love to talk shop when it comes to writing and stories. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, if I made you laugh. Talk to me! I try my best to message back if you leave a signed review; if it's anon, I'll answer it in the next chapter.

I plan to update once a week, and right now I have enough material for two months, so expect regular updates for at least that long!


	2. The First of Three Beginnings

See end of chapter for notes.

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 _Rantipole (org. English):_ 1\. (n.) a wild and reckless person; 2. (v.) to be wild and reckless; 3. (adj.) wild and reckless.

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 **Chapter 2: The First of Three Beginnings**

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 _In Which a Hero is Introduced (And Promptly Does Something Stupid)_

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Urameshi Yusuke, newly commissioned Spirit Detective, sprawled on the grass, trying to muster the energy to do more than twitch. That ring-enhancer-thing needed to come with a warning. Well, now he thought about it, it sort of had. Botan had warned him it would leave him completely exhausted, but he hadn't really expected it to be this serious. Still, bad guy beat, Botan safe, stupid soul ball recovered.

"Score one for the Spirit Detective," Yusuke said, one arm flung limply over his eyes. "Forget the damn ring, maybe _I_ should come with a warning. Heh."

A low whistle interrupted the thought. "Maybe you should!"

Oh, hells. That was not Botan.

He pushed himself up, only to see the _shinigami_ in question squaring off against one of the _youkai_ he was supposed to be tracking down. On the one hand, it was nice not to have to go looking for the bastard. On the other hand, the timing couldn't have been worse. Botan had grabbed a tree branch from the ground and was swinging it wildly, even though the _youkai_ had yet to come down from the tree he was perched in.

"If you think you're going to be taking revenge on Yusuke for killing Gouki, you nasty little thief, think again! He's my best project and I'm not about to let you kick him when he's down!"

"Whoa, lady! You have completely gotten the wrong idea, here!" the guy protested, looking more amused than anything else. "I came to talk! Truce! Parley!" Botan snatched up a rock with every intention of throwing it. "Oi! Seriously!"

Yusuke crossed his legs, staring up at the guy. "Nice as it is of you to jump to my defense, Botan, let's be honest here. I'm wiped, you're no fighter, and if he wanted to kill us, he would have already. You were here during the fight, weren't you?"

The _youkai_ raised one pierced eyebrow. If Yusuke hadn't known he wasn't human, he'd have never guessed—blue eyed and with long black hair tied back in a braid, the _youkai_ was dressed in clothes that would have fit equally well in a goth club or a metal concert. Along with the bar in his eyebrow, he had three studs in one ear and four in the other, as well as snakebites—small hoops in his lower lip just below his eyeteeth. Black and doom wasn't a look Yusuke could ever pull off, but the demon looked the part of a delinquent and a punk, and that much Yusuke could relate to. Even respect. Kinda sucked he was supposed to arrest him.

"Yeah, I was. Urameshi, isn't it?" he asked, swinging his legs around to sit on the branch, rather than leaning against the tree trunk. "Nicely done with Gouki. If you've only got one shot, you gotta make it count, huh?" He raised a hand, mimicking the spirit gun. "Bang! and you had him. Good riddance, Gouki was a serious piece of work. Ass. Not much good but for muscle—I think Hiei had plans to off him himself. Anyway, the name's Kuroji, and I think I've got something you want." He reached into his coat, grinned at Botan when she twitched, and pulled out the mirror. "This thing, right?"

"Yeah…" Yusuke said slowly. "What do you want for it?"

Kuroji spun the mirror by its tassel, watching it flash in the late afternoon sunlight. "Time. I'll give it back in three days. Sound good?"

"No, it most certainly does not sound good!" Botan protested, slamming the end of her stick into the ground. "You think we don't know how it works? The full moon is in three days! You could wish for anything! You think we're just going to let you destroy the world?"

"Dude, who said anything about destroying the world?" Kuroji asked. "I live here, if you haven't noticed. Don't really want to destroy it. Or," he added when Botan opened her mouth with another protest, "Take it over. You know how much work being in charge is? Hell no. Besides, I was talking to Urameshi, not you. He's the spirit detective, you're just his assistant. He outranks you, technically. So?" He turned back towards Yusuke with a shrug, tossing the mirror to his other hand. "What d'you say? Three days?"

Yusuke laughed. "You know, it really sucks that you're a bad guy. Three days. Yeah, sure. And then I've gotta arrest you, right?"

"You can try. I'll give it back—never said anything about turning myself in." The smile Kuroji flashed the detective had a few too many teeth to be called friendly. The one Yusuke returned was almost as threatening. "If your assistant is still worried, feel free to meet me that night. You can watch me use the thing. Make sure I don't have any plans for world domination."

"Why, you—" Botan started, but Kuroji just laughed, leaping from his branch to another, then another, getting enough of a head start that by the time he did drop to the ground, the _shinigami_ wouldn't have been able to catch him. Or bean him with a rock. Judging by the way her fists were shaking, it was a definite concern.

Yusuke flopped back onto his back with a huff of laughter, attracting Botan's attention. "And as for you! I can't believe you agreed to that! He's a thief, and a _youkai_ , and he's probably lying! You can't trust him, Yusuke! What were you thinking?"

He groaned. "I was thinking that I'm exhausted and sore and bruised, and he didn't seem like such a bad guy to me. He was watching the fight—if he wanted to, he could have helped Gouki." He hesitated. "And I heard them talking a bit yesterday… He was set to walk away before I interrupted. I get the sense the three of them don't want the same thing anymore."

Botan didn't look convinced, but she dropped the subject and lent him her stick so he could hobble home while she went to talk to Koenma. She had more than a few questions to ask about the Forlorn Hope.

* * *

Kuroji turned out to be as good as his word, and sent a message to Yusuke to meet at a cathedral in the residential area the night of the full moon. He arrived a couple of hours after sunset, staring up at the massive building with a healthy amount of skepticism on his face. It loomed over the shadowed street like a behemoth from times forgotten, and Yusuke didn't bother suppressing his grimace. It was no secret he had authority problems, or that they extended to organized religion—he'd mouthed off to the guy supposed to be judging his soul, after all.

"He didn't strike me as a religious type," he muttered to himself, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his school uniform and walking up the wide, sweeping steps.

"I'm not."

Yusuke jumped about a mile, swearing. "You could warn a guy, y'know?"

A shadow detached itself from the doorway and moved towards him. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" Kuroji asked, flashing a grin that had the slightest hint of fang in it. "Door's open, come on in."

"You're actually a vampire, aren't you," Yusuke accused half-heartedly, trailing after the _youkai_. The place was mostly empty this time of night, vaulted ceilings disappearing into the gloom above. Moonlight filtered through stained glass, but that and the votive candles were the only light.

Ahead of him, Kuroji's dark clothing and hair practically disappeared into the gloom. "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don't even know where to begin. _Koumouri_ , kid. Bat _youkai_."

Well, that told him precisely nothing. "So you _are_ a vampire." Yusuke followed him around one column and up a winding staircase, trying not to trip.

"You really don't know anything, do you?"

Yusuke decided he might be better off changing the subject. "So, why here?"

"I have a flair for the dramatic, and brooding is so much more satisfying when the scene is appropriately set."

"Seriously?"

Kuroji laughed out loud at his indignant yelp. "No! Though I have been accused of being overly dramatic before. Practicality as much as anything else. I need as much moonlight and as little street-light as possible, so a roof. Churches tend to be open twenty-four-seven, even if—ah, yep. Thought so." Kuroji paused, but it was too dark for Yusuke to make out why or what he was doing now. There was rustling and the clinking of metal, and Yusuke tried to be patient.

"What's taking so long?" Well, tried.

"Keep your shirt on, kid, it's only been about three seconds. There," Kuroji said, and there was a clatter as something heavy and metal fell to the stone steps. A chain? "Door was locked. Come on, then."

They walked out onto something like a roof crossed with a statue garden and a castle's ramparts. Yusuke made a face at one of the gargoyles as he passed, and kept an eye on Kuroji. He walked straight to the edge, tilting his head back to face the moon entirely and closed his eyes. Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ancient stonework, he looked somehow ageless.

"I can see why someone would think you're dramatic. I know you're really living up to the whole 'big, bad, mysterious _youkai_ ' thing," Yusuke said, shaking off the chill running down his back, "but can you make the wish or whatever already?"

Kuroji reached inside his jacket again, drawing out the mirror and staring at it thoughtfully. "I'm not going to make a wish."

"Say what?"

"I didn't steal it to make a wish," Kuroji said again, turning around to face Yusuke again. He tossed the mirror lightly in one hand. "Answer me this: how old are you?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Yusuke threw up his hands and resigned himself to not getting the mirror back until he listened to whatever it was Kuroji had to say. "Fifteen in a few months."

"Young and brash enough to be convinced of your own immortality," Kuroji said thoughtfully.

"I don't think I'm immortal," Yusuke protested. "I was dead two weeks ago."

Kuroji laughed, and Yusuke got the nasty feeling he'd just proved the point. "Where do you see yourself in fifteen years?"

Yusuke almost made another smart comment (what was he now, a guidance counselor?) but held back. Kuroji was staring at the mirror again, like it held all the answers to all the questions in the world, but he wasn't really looking _in_ it. He kept his eyes on the frame, inspected the etchings on the back, but never paused to glance at his actual reflection.

Whatever he wanted to say, it was important. So Yusuke gave the question some actual thought. Fifteen years, huh? He'd be what, twenty-nine, almost thirty? Somehow, he couldn't say he was the type to have a job, wife, and kids. Maybe this gig would keep going, but he kind of doubted Koenma was going to give him a salary. Yusuke shrugged. "Dunno, really," he admitted. "I'll figure something out, though. I've been decent enough at the whole spirit detective thing so far. Bet I can figure out some way to make Koenma pay me for it."

"And I wish you luck in it," Kuroji said. "At least you've got an idea. Better than most your age. Better than me." Kuroji sat. The mirror clacked against the stone as he set it down in front of him. "Do you know how the mirror works?"

"It grants your wish if you give it something," Yusuke said, joining him. "I just know I'm supposed to get it back, really."

"On the night of the full moon, the Forlorn Hope reflects not the user's face, but his deepest desire. The mirror has the power to grant this desire, in exchange for something, though very few know what that something is." Kuroji rolled his eyes. "Not that it really matters. Like I said, I'm not planning to actually wish for anything."

Yusuke nodded, paused, and then shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not really following you here."

Kuroji's grin was a little crooked this time. "I'm empty, Urameshi. I have no idea what I want. I don't know why I'm still alive, and I'm not exactly introspective enough to figure that out myself. So, I'm cheating."

"The mirror tells you what you want, and then you'll go get it!" Yusuke sighed. "Well, that makes a twisted amount of sense. But then, you're also assuming whatever it is you want is something you _can_ get without the Forlorn Hope's power."

"Calculated risk, and worth it as far as I'm concerned." Kuroji waved one hand in dismissal, and looked up at the moon. "An hour or so before midnight… Well, nothing else for it." He cleared his throat, and gave Yusuke a sheepish sort of grin. "Feel kind of silly talking to a mirror, but… Oh, mirror of the Forlorn Hope! Wake with the moonlight above, and reflect my desire!"

Yusuke scooted forward so he could watch, curious in spite of himself. The surface of the mirror flickered, glimmered, and erupted into a blinding white glow. _Do not lie to yourself._ Yusuke winced and clapped his hands to his ears, even though that didn't remotely help. The voice was deep and ancient, echoing through his skull. Underneath the oppressive power, though, it sounded amused. _You know what you wish for._

"Do not," Kuroji said. Even Yusuke knew that wasn't the most mature defense.

 _Then you do not wish for his health and happiness?_ The glow dimmed from white to silver, the light peeling away to show a man's face. Yusuke only caught a glimpse of silver-gray hair and a subtle, enigmatic smile before Kuroji slammed a fist into the ground, hard enough the stone crumbled.

"Toy with me and I will grind you into glass powder," Kuroji said. His face had turned nearly as white as the moon above them. "He died fifteen years ago. Even your considerable power cannot bring him back to life."

 _You are mistaken. The_ youko _yet lives._

"He's… he's alive?" Kuroji repeated. He reached for the mirror, fingers hovering over the image's surface before veering to the side and lifting the mirror by the frame. "He's alive. No. Impossible. I watched him die. I buried his body! How could he have survived?"

 _The_ youko _lives, but he is much changed. I wonder if even you would recognize him as he is now._ Silence, broken only by Kuroji's suddenly ragged breathing. Yusuke's stomach sank. The both of them were way over their heads. Not an unusual place for him, but Kuroji wasn't thinking straight anymore. _For his health and happiness, what would you give?_

"Anything. Everything! I'd give my life for—"

 _Ah. Good. Life is exactly what is required._

The surface of the mirror crackled with lightning, shooting up Kuroji's arms. His scream echoed across the rooftops, the inhuman sound of an animal in unimaginable pain. Without thinking, Yusuke leapt forwards, seizing the mirror with both hands. There was probably some fancy three or four syllable word for the amount of pain he was immediately in, but all Yusuke could muster was a very heartfelt _fucking ow._

"Oi!" he shouted, forcing the pain to one side so he could speak. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but this guy was your friend, right?" Kuroji's eyes had been screwed shut, but they opened just enough to show hazy blue. "Do you really think he'd be happy if you died here, now, after just finding out he's alive?" The demon's eyes opened wider, staring at him the same way Keiko did when he said something either particularly stupid or particularly insightful. Yusuke ignored the surprise, turning his attention to the mirror instead. "Hey, Forlorn Hope! Not fair of you to do that to a grieving friend! Seriously, how can you guarantee anyone happiness by killing someone they care for? If you need a life so badly, take mine!"

"Urameshi, what the hell are you doing?"

A deep laugh echoed behind Yusuke's ears, the pain hit a peak, and Yusuke fell into darkness.

* * *

Consciousness was slow to return. Rough stone rubbed against his cheek and the palms of his hands. His brain felt as if someone had splintered it into dozens of pieces.

"Yusuke!"

He grunted something that under better circumstances might have been "Botan."

"Oh, Yusuke, what were you thinking? Come on, wake up!"

"M'awake," he said. Gods, he sounded like his mom after one of her binges. "M'alive."

"After the stunt you just pulled, you shouldn't be!" Botan said. Yusuke inched one arm slowly up his side, put his palm to the ground and pushed, flopping onto his back gracelessly.

"Ow."

Botan glared down at him from her oar, though it was clear she was more worried than anything else. "Did you at least retrieve the Forlorn Hope?"

"Er." A slow, deep chuckle wound its way through his consciousness. He forced himself upright, wavered, but remained standing. The mirror was near his foot, still glowing faintly. "I guess that's a yes… Oh, hey, where'd Kuroji go?"

 _The_ koumori _has a great deal on his mind,_ the mirror whispered. _I must thank you. If more people made wishes like the pair of you did, perhaps I would not be called "Forlorn."_ What glow lingered finally died away, and Yusuke bent to pick it up.

"We'll have to track him down eventually," Botan said slowly, bobbing in the air.

"Yeah. Eventually." Yusuke tossed the mirror up once and caught it. "But hey! Look on the bright side! Two down, one to go, and no one's dead yet who shouldn't be! And Kuroji got some good news—sounds like a friend of his is still alive."

The bubbly ferry girl smiled at that, her oar floating up slightly with her improved mood. "Oh? That's wonderful! Good for him!" She grinned at him. "To think I ever doubted you!"

Yusuke laughed. "Hey, think you could give me a lift back to my mom?"

"Nope!" Botan giggled. "Not until you're dead again—and that better take a long time!" She hovered over the drop. "Besides, you're not my only job. I'm a busy girl, Yusuke!"

"Oh, come on! Botan!" She waved cheerfully, zooming up into the sky. "Botan!" he called after her, then sighed. "Man, I really didn't want to walk down all those stairs…" Yusuke scuffed the ground with one shoe, but hobbled towards the door.

The roof remained empty for a few minutes. At last, the _koumori_ deemed it unlikely that either Yusuke or Botan would return and stepped out from behind one of the gargoyles. He sighed, slumping to lean over the crenellated wall surrounding the roof, eyes closed. After several long seconds, he reached up and unscrewed the ball on his eyebrow piercing, sliding it out of his skin with the air of a woman taking her hair down after a long day. Large, black wings shimmered into view, reached up to the sky once, twice, before settling to fold against the bat's shoulders. His ears grew and lengthened until there was no way they could be mistaken for human. The bat wing necklace shimmered, twisted, and resolved itself into a blood-red jewel.

The illusion was a good one, and prohibitively expensive, but he'd been robbing and raiding the vaults and storerooms of _Makai_ for centuries. Money hadn't been an object, when Kuronue had decided his safest option was to fake his own death and lie low for a few centuries. He'd come to the human world five, six years ago out of boredom as much as anything else, and just… wandered. He hadn't meant to be so disgustingly honest with the detective. He didn't really know what he had wanted. Desperate for some sort of direction, he'd ended up falling in with Hiei and Gouki, lending his considerable expertise to their attempt on the spirit world vaults.

Kuronue braced himself against the crenellation and shook. _Kurama's alive,_ he thought, then said it out loud, savoring the sound of it. "Kurama's alive. How's that for direction?" He laughed quietly, and found he couldn't stop. "You bastard, I'm going to kick your fuzzy tail from here to _Meikai_ , you hear me! Damn fox."

Maybe faking his death hadn't been the best idea. Of course Kurama wouldn't come find him if he thought he was dead. And it was nearly impossible to find the fox when he didn't want to be found. Kuronue had never met anyone who was as good at masking their _ki_ as Kurama was. It was one of the things that made him so skilled with wards. Hell, even _Reikai_ …

"Well, there's an idea…" Kuronue said, shaking his head at the mad thought. If he played his cards very, very carefully, it might even work.

Kuronue straightened, still a bit unsteady with the drain of half his life, and returned to the shadows of the roof for a long plotting session. By the time the moon had started to set, Kuronue had the details of his plan worked out and had drifted into a well deserved nap.

* * *

 **Glossary:**

 _shinigami_ : literally 'death god'; a spirit which invites or guides the souls to the afterlife. Many cultures have analogues: Norse Valkyries, who guided the souls of fallen warriors to Valhalla, for instance. "Ferry girl" is the translation most often used for Botan and her colleagues, but that felt... well, weirdly Western. _Shinigami_ seem to be more amoral or malicious in Japanese myth, often leading people directly to death rather than guiding their souls after the event, but _Yu Yu Hakusho_ tends to either ignore or run with Japanese mythology, so. It's not the first time it's drastically different, and I doubt it'll be the last.

 _youkai_ : Haaahh, this is the word that made me frustrated enough to actually use some Japanese in this fic. Commonly translated as "demon" in this and many other anime series, I kind of think of _youkai_ as the Japanese equivalent of Old World Fae: amoral, inhuman, otherworldly beings that follow their own rules and view humans as anything from food to entertainment (with rare exceptions that are more friendly). Spirits, monsters, and apparitions are other suggested translations. _Youkai_ in _Yu Yu Hakusho_ are the inhuman, often monstrous beings who oppose _Reikai_ authority, and who populate _Makai._ There will be a lot of playing around with what _youkai_ are, how they differ from each other, and so on. I'm excited, even if I know no one else is.

 _koumori:_ Literally "bat." I tried to find mythology on bats as linked to _youkai,_ and there isn't a lot. Or really any. There's some discrepancy on what exactly Kuronue is, anyway: I've seen both 'chimera' and 'tengu' in fic, but most seem to lean towards a bat of some sort. In the end, we just don't know. So I'll be playing around with some head canons and seeing what happens.

 _youko:_ "spirit fox" is the translation I will be using. "Demon fox" has also been suggested and I think is the translation most used by the anime dub and the wiki, but I prefer the former for _youkai_ -civilization and head canon purposes.

 _Makai_ : Demon Plane, Demon Realm, Demon World. Vast and uncivilized, _Makai_ is a dimension running parallel and closely linked to our own, and is populated by _youkai._

 _Meikai:_ I'm unsure of a proper translation, but I like "Netherworld." Not mentioned in the anime series itself, but a major plot point in the _Poltergeist Report_ movie (which gave us Kuronue). According to the movie, _Meikai_ is the dark equivalent of _Reikai._ Where _Reikai_ sits above _Ningenkai_ (the human world, our world), _Meikai_ sits above _Makai_. I always wondered if that meant that, before _Meikai_ was destroyed and its ruler(s) sealed away, they processed the souls of _youkai_ in the same way _Reikai_ handled _ningen_ (human) souls.

 _ki:_ aura, energy in its most basic form.

 _Reikai:_ Spirit Plane, Spirit Realm, Spirit World. Where Koenma and Botan live and work; they process the souls of the dead, sending them on to their designated afterlife. There will be some exploration of their mechanics and motivations in this fic, but not a great deal.

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

As the title of this chapter might suggest, it and the next two all stand closely related.

In case it isn't clear, Kuronue faked his own death; those who don't know him as Kuronue will call him Kuroji. Yes, that was a _Pirates of the Caribbean_ reference. Yes, he's Goth. I like the piercings. There may or may not be tattoos to go with them. I thank Nekomata's _Anemone_ for first giving Kuronue the human name Kuroji. I've borrowed the name as a tribute of sorts. (There are several more tributes/adopted head canons that will show up in this fic, and I will give credit where credit is due for them, whenever I can.)

You can't tell me 'rantipole' is not a great word to describe Yusuke. In my last attempt at this fic, I was rather hard on all the characters who weren't my main two... I'm making reparations here. There will be no bashing of anyone if I can help it. Even though Kuronue and Kurama (/Shuuichi) are the main focus, I don't intend to include characters just to hate on them. I actually like all the characters; I just like Kurama most.

Oh, note on last chapter I wasn't sure where to stick: the wards on the vault door specifically blocked _ki._ Any breach done via _ki_ (whether _reiki_ or _youki_ ) would set off the alarm, which meant they couldn't be dismantled by Kurama, and the door couldn't just be ripped apart with manifested weapons (metal or plant). Picking the lock the slow, human way, though, could be done with no problem, which is what Kuronue did. If you know _Harry Potter,_ think the Weasley twins, summer between first and second year: _Alohomora_ would get them in trouble if they did it under-aged and outside of school, but they have no problem whatsoever picking the lock with a hair pin. Muggle ways have their value.

A special thank you to Unita for reviewing the last chapter! And a thank you for the people who have placed this story on their alert and favorites list. Be warned that next week's chapter won't be nearly as long, though it is significant. We've had a couple of really long chapters, but I can't guarantee that will be the standard.

If anyone would like to beta this, please message me. I could use a second set of reliable eyes for grammar purposes.

See you all next week! Please drop a review, and tell me what you think.


	3. The Second of Three Beginnings

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Brontide (org. Greek):_ _the low rumble of distant thunder_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: The Second of Three Beginnings**

* * *

 _In Which Death Jumps to Conclusions_

* * *

Botan hovered over a hospital halfway across the city, humming to herself as she watched the seconds tick down on her pocket watch. "Three… two… one…" She snapped the watch shut and put it back into the sleeve of her kimono, smiling brightly. The newly dead tended to be confused and a bit upset—in her experience, cheerfulness helped more than sympathy.

Except the newly dead soul she was supposed to ferry back didn't appear, even as the _shinigami_ waited five, then ten, then fifteen minutes. Botan fished out her pocket watch, checked her guide book, and frowned. "Hmmm…" No, she was right on time… Curious as to what might have happened, Botan floated down the side of the building, checking through the windows and looking for her wayward charge. Perhaps the ghost had lingered in the room? Not unusual… But Minamino Shiori had no family—parents long gone, husband dead a decade, childless. She didn't have a reason to linger.

"So where—Oh!" Botan slipped through the closed window into the hospital room, coming down to land lightly on her feet and dismissing heroar back into the ether. She'd found her ghost, but…

Minamino Shiori was asleep in the hospital bed, breathing deeply. Though thin and pale, her skin no longer had the sickly translucent look of the terminally ill. Botan flipped her guidebook open again, eyes darting between the page and the woman as the death-date shimmered and changed. This wasn't exactly unusual, especially for cancer patients. Those with particularly high _reiki_ (and from what she sensed, Minamino- _san_ could be a powerful psychic with some direction) struggled and fought and put off their deaths through sheer will power, delaying the moment their souls left their bodies for days, even months. But the new death date was years away. Even as she looked at the page, the cause of death changed, too, from _cancer_ to _old age._

 _That shouldn't be possible!_

A quiet, half-asleep moan startled Botan so much she almost dropped the book. A young man was half-lying on the bed, clutching Minamino- _san_ 's hand with both of his. How had she not noticed someone else in the room? To be fair she'd been preoccupied with the minor mystery, but still! She should have sensed him, and that hair was colorful enough… Botan frowned slightly, stretching out her awareness towards the young man. Oh, no wonder that she didn't sense him—his _reiki_ was almost completely eclipsed by Minamino- _san_ 's, barely enough to keep him alive, let alone bring him to the attention of a denizen of the underworld. But why…?

A half whispered-word answered her question. "Mother…" When the young man stirred, turning his face towards her, Botan could see faint tracks of dried tears.

"Oh! That explains everything!" Botan summoned her oar with a bright laugh. A son. So Minamino Shiori wasn't as alone in the world as she'd thought—she did have something to fight for, and judging by her aura, more than enough strength to win. She must have adopted him at some point. Perhaps after her husband died, or after her miscarriage? There was still the question as to why her cause of death had changed, but that was probably a clerical error of some sort, and not for her to worry about. "Glad that's cleared up," she nodded to herself, hopped onto her oar, and left the room into the night, wondering if she shouldn't go check on Yusuke after all.

Botan didn't bother to check for anyone watching. Humans could not see or hear _shinigami_ unless they had died. Even those humans who had high amounts of spirit energy only sensed a presence, unless specifically trained or abnormally powerful. It was one of the reasons Koenma had agreed so readily to Botan taking a human form while she was helping Yusuke.

So one had to wonder why Shiori's redheaded son was staring after the bubbly _shinigami_ , lips just barely parted in surprise.

* * *

 **Glossary:**

 _shinigami:_ literally, "death god." Used here to describe Botan and her colleagues, the girls who bring souls from the living world to the Gate of Judgement.

 _-san:_ an honorific denoting respect to a man or woman one does not know well. A rough equivalent in English would be "Mr." or "Ms."

 _reiki:_ "spirit energy." The psychic energy inherent in a human being, able to be turned into weapons (Yusuke, Kuwabara) or directed into healing (Botan, Genkai).

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

Yes, it's a lot shorter than the previous two chapters, I know. I'm sorry. I warned you. It's a significant scene! And felt out of place when paired with anything else! The good news is that it's the shortest chapter I've written for this thing so far, so take heart in that.

I think I'll leave my author's note there, because otherwise it might be longer than the chapter...

* * *

 **Review Responses:**

Oh my gods, there were so many reviews this week, thank you all so much!

 **Guest:** Thank you! Here's the next chapter, and I hope you continue reading and enjoying my fic!

 **Sarah:** You need an account to follow an author or a story, I'm afraid. Once you're logged in, there are buttons beneath the review box that allow for following and favoriting. I'm glad you're enjoying my fic! I've got enough written that I doubt I'll drop this story again.

 **Llonella:** Yusuke is a little punk, but that's why we love him. I'm glad you enjoyed my new attempt as well as my old, and I hope the eventual meeting lives up to your expectations.

 **YYH fan:** New chapter! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I can only hope my writing continues to live up to your expectations.

I'll see you all next week!


	4. The Third of Three Beginnings

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _sprezzatura (org. Italian):_ (1) n. the ability to make one's actions seem effortless or to disguise one's true desire, feeling, or meaning; (2) n. studied carelessness

* * *

 **Chapter Four: The Third of Three Beginnings**

* * *

 _In Which a Thief Strikes a Bargain_

* * *

"I've had worse plans," Kuronue had said, waving one hand dismissively in the face of Botan's scream. He couldn't really fault her. A presumed enemy stumbling towards her with a sword sticking out of his gut? Not the most reassuring of sights, he was sure.

But damned if he wasn't he regretting his flippancy now. He could have probably weaseled a healing treatment out of Botan if he'd swallowed his pride and acted a little more pathetic. Healing wasn't his shtick: Kurama had always had a useful plant or three on hand for when things went pear-shaped, so he'd never bothered with it. Now he stood in Koenma's office with a gash in his stomach that was beginning to ooze in a distracting way, and wished he'd paid a bit more attention.

The almighty toddler himself sat behind a simple wooden desk and dismissed the large blue ogre who had shown him in with a single word. Kuronue ignored the ogre's departure as inconsequential, keeping his attention on Koenma. Appearances could be deceiving and he had to do some serious finagling if he wanted to pull this scheme off, so Kuronue bit back every "escapee from the local daycare" comment and forced himself to look polite and respectful.

 _The things I do for you, Kurama._

" _Koumori_ Kuroji," Koenma said, folding tiny hands in front of him. For the first time, Kuronue was impressed. Koenma had remarkable diction while sucking on a pacifier. "In cooperation with two others— _Kyukonki_ Gouki and the _Jaganshi_ Hiei—you have endeavored to steal three treasures from the vaults of _Reikai_. Seven ogres were slaughtered in the course of your raid. The Shadow Sword has been stained with blood. Of greatest concern, the Forlorn Hope has been cracked, resulting in a serious drop of its power and threatening the balance the three treasures maintain. Is there anything you wish to say in your defense?"

Kuronue shrugged and scuffed a foot against the floor. "Sorry?" Koenma continued sucking on his pacifier. "As I recall, Gouki killed the guards," he said, ducking his head and rounding his shoulders in the best show of nerves and contrition he could muster. He was pretty nervous—Koenma had called him Kuroji, which meant he hadn't seen through the illusion, but this whole operation could go south way too easily. But the payoff… "And I did turn myself in. To be honest…" A shrug. "I planned to do that from the start."

"Yes," Koenma conceded. Chubby fingers tapped against the desk in a motion far too mature for the baby-faced prince of _Reikai_. "Which begs the question of why you robbed the vaults in the first place."

"Well…" He dragged out the word, tilting his head to one side and staring at a spot on the floor as he thought. "I suppose I wanted to show up my older brother for once."

Koenma was so surprised he stopped sucking on his pacifier. "Oh?"

"Yeah!" _Careful, Kuro, everything hangs on selling this._ "It's not fair—I'm just as good a thief as the old bat, but because he got picked up by Kurama, he's the one with all the fame and fortune, and I'm—"

"Kurama?" Koenma interrupted.

It took every ounce of Kuronue's self control to stifle the predatory grin that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he waved both hands towards the prince, as if to say _See?_ "Oh, yeah, everyone knows about the great _youkai_ thieves, the _Youko_ Kurama and _Koumori_ Kuronue! Fifteen years of quiet and you still turn white as a sheet at the very mention!"

Koenma coughed in an obvious and unsuccessful attempt to regain control. "Quiet? I think not. Both thieves are dead."

Kuronue didn't have to fake his laugh, even if it sent a spasm of pain through his stomach wound. "If you say so."

Both hands pressed down into the desk now. Koenma stood in his chair, leaning forwards. "If you have any information…"

"Nah, I don't think I do," Kuronue shoved his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans, rocking back on both feet. "At least, nothing I'd be interested in telling my jailer." Indigo eyes met and held hazel, both deceptively old in young faces.

Koenma rubbed at the letters inked on his forehead with one hand and sighed deeply through his nose. "In light of your cooperation, assistance, nonviolence during the initial raid, and extenuating circumstances, I could transmute your sentence from jail time to community service."

This was exactly what he wanted to hear, but looking too interested so early would not do. "What kind of community service?"

Seeming to recognize he may now have a bargaining chip of his own, Koenma relaxed back into the chair again. "I'm sure you've noticed that our current spirit detective is… untried."

That understatement earned another too honest laugh. Kuronue had rather liked the hotheaded, reckless hero. Urameshi didn't panic when things went wrong, had a real gift for sarcasm from what he could hear of the fight against Hiei, and had the luck of the devil himself to boot. "Harsh first case, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Well. Some experience added to the team would be most appreciated."

"So, help out on your cases rather than go to jail? How long are you thinking of having this little arrangement?" Kuronue rocked back on his heels as he thought.

Koenma narrowed his eyes as he weighed the possibilities. "One year."

 _Ouch, not expecting the detective to live long, are you?_ Kuronue hummed in consideration. "Well, if I'm going to be joining this rag-tag team of heroes… some advice?" Koenma raised one eyebrow and gestured in an _all right, fine_ sort of way. "Offer the same deal to Hiei."

"What?" Koenma cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice wasn't nearly so much as a squawk. "What? Why?"

"I'd say he has a few extenuating circumstance of his own," Kuronue said, shrugging. Now to let them wonder if they should take the words at face value or as a suggestion Hiei also had potentially important information. Kuronue didn't even know if it was true, but he did have one or two educated guesses—no one volunteered to have a _jagan_ implanted if they weren't desperate. "Besides, Urameshi didn't kill him."

"Not killing someone isn't exactly the most stable basis for trust."

"Sure it is, especially in _Makai_. He had no problem killing Gouki, but he let Hiei be taken in quietly, even though Hiei made it a lot more personal. Makes me think he's seen something worthwhile in him. In fact," he tacked on, taking a chance on what he knew of the kid's character, "I wouldn't be surprised if he's asked about both our sentences."

The pacifier bobbed up and down as Koenma sucked on it, eyes narrowed. Score, Urameshi had totally asked what would happen to the pair of them. This might actually work. He'd gotten involved in the whole affair because Hiei approached him about it, and Hiei approached him because that damn _jagan_ of his had recognized an illusion. Even if he hadn't seen through it entirely, Kuronue suspected Hiei knew exactly who he was, which meant he couldn't really leave him to _Reikai_ mercy, or break him out and back into _Makai_. He did _not_ want rumors of his survival reaching any of the three realms. Not yet.

 _Jagan_ were best known for their tracking abilities, which meant Hiei was (most likely) looking for something. His presence in _Ningenkai_ meant he (most likely) hadn't found it yet. Which meant that, like Kuronue, Hiei would find _Reikai_ resources very helpful. And thus wouldn't kill Kuronue for roping him into babysitting the detective, too. Most likely.

Koenma mumbled something about taking his recommendation under advisement and pulled his file forward to stamp. And as simple as that, "Kuroji" was officially a spirit detective, working for _Reikai_ as community service. It was such a ridiculous turn that he suspected even his oh-so-stoic fox would crack a rib laughing at him.

"Now… What were you saying, earlier?" Koenma asked in what he probably wanted to be a casual tone.

"Oh, just that I know where a few of their old safe houses are. I could give you the locations, if you want. And…" he hesitated, biting his lip. "I've had a reliable source tell me Kurama survived."

Koenma turned almost as white as the stack of unstamped forms beside him. "Who?"

"I don't know his name," Kuronue said, plucking the convenient parts of the truth from the whole. "But he's well known for his honor and honesty. If he says something is so, then it is." Koenma rubbed at the ink on his forehead again, though his hands were noticeably shaking this time. Kuronue bit his lip. Now for the hardest, most important, most delicate part of the whole operation… Hands down, Kurama had the best subtle, manipulative ideas, but Kuronue hadn't lived with him for literal centuries without learning quite a bit himself. "If a person that reliable thinks he might have survived… well, _Makai_ has a first class rumor mill."

Koenma shot him a disgruntled glare, and sighed again. "I'm well aware of how carefully this must be handled."

"Then let me handle it," Kuronue said. He was careful to keep his shoulders relaxed, his posture slumped and casual. If Koenma even suspected how much he needed this, he was screwed. He could have disappeared after the heist. He'd meant to. Except Kurama was alive, and this was the only way he could think of to find him.

"And why should I do that?"

"Three reasons." Kuronue held up three fingers, then curled one down. "You need subtlety and stealth, and you've got a master thief offering you exactly that." A second finger. "Who in the three realms would expect you to trust something so delicate to a new recruit, let alone a convicted criminal? Even if I was stupid enough to tell someone I was looking for the _Youko_ Kurama, no one would believe me, so there's your rumor problem nipped in the bud."

"And the third?"

He let the last finger drop, and slammed his fist into the desk with the same motion. "I've got unfinished business with the damn fox," he said, voice too quiet to properly hear the tone. "He should have taken me with him." Kuronue glared into the godling's eyes, letting him read the absolute truth of this statement and interpret it as he wished.

Shockingly, Koenma hadn't jumped when he hit the desk, but he did stare at Kuronue long enough to make him worry he'd made some sort of misstep. "Very well," he said, just when Kuronue had started remembering how many doors and guards he'd passed through on his way here in case he needed a quick exit. "I will check myself to see if his soul was ever processed after we closed his record. If not, we will _quietly_ open an investigation from the beginning. Is that acceptable?"

"More than," Kuronue agreed, allowing just a sliver of a smile and stretching.

"How will we contact you if needed?"

"The Den. It's a bar I own." Catching Koenma's concern, Kuronue laughed. "All legitimate and above board, I assure you. Leave a message if I'm not there." He tossed a casual salute Koenma's way and sauntered out the door, feeling very, very pleased with himself. Sure, Kurama could have gotten himself put on the case all while making sure that Koenma thought it was his own idea, but better safe than sorry.

 _Sit tight, fox. I won that last bet—you owe me a confession._

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _koumori:_ bat. Used here to mean bat youkai.

 _jaganshi:_ One who has mastered the Jagan. See below for rambling notes about titles, last names, and youkai naming conventions.

 _kyukonki:_ My best guess at the romanization for the kind of youkai that Gouki is. Roughly translates as "soul-eating ogre." I've one or two thoughts on the differences between ogres working in _Reikai_ and ogres in _Makai,_ but I didn't want to shoehorn them into this chapter, so I don't know when they'll come up.

 _Reikai:_ Spirit World, Spirit Plane, Spirit Realm. Where Koenma and Botan are from.

 _youkai:_ demons, or spirits, or apparitions, as you like. A race of beings that are not human.

 _youko:_ spirit fox

 _jagan: (side note: googling 'jagan' in hopes of finding a literal translation is unhelpful and brings up an Indian actor._ ) Google translate says "evil eye." The third eye which Hiei had implanted. There's some ambiguity in canon about what, exactly, a jagan is and is not capable of. I'm limiting it mostly to tracking _ki_ (whether _youki_ or _reiki_ ), far-sight (within a limited range), and some rudimentary mental powers (i.e. telepathy and control over simpler minds). It also artificially increases the control its possessor has over his or her own ki. Hiei acquired the _jagan_ for the first two reasons.

 _Makai:_ Demon World, Demon Plane, Demon Realm. Untamed and uncivilized for the most part, and inhabited by _youkai._

 _Ningenkai:_ Human World, Human Plane, Human Realm. You're in it. _(side note: I'm still hashing out when to use 'human' and when to use 'ningen,' but right now I'll probably use ningen to basically mean 'not youkai.')_

* * *

 **A note on names vs. titles:**

While the English dub of the anime treats "youko" as a given name, I've opted to treat it a little bit differently, and decided to use it as a sort of model for _youkai_ naming conventions. Aside from the given name, demons will have a last name and/or title associated as well. Some of them are clan names, some of them are straight-forward species names, some of them are earned titles (almost a warning label). _Kyukonki_ Gouki is simply a species name. Think of it as short hand for "Gouki, who is a soul-eating ogre." Kuronue uses " _Koumori_ Kuroji" in the same way, further downplaying his power level and experience. Kurama and Kuronue have enough of a reputation, however, to flirt with the line between a species name and a proper title: hence _the Youko_ Kurama and _the Koumori_ Kuronue (though they're so often mentioned together that the respectful "the" carries through the phrase: _the_ Youko Kurama and Koumori Kuronue). Hiei, having survived the surgery to get his _jagan,_ has earned the title of _Jaganshi. Jaganshi_ Hiei would be interpreted more as "Hiei, the Master of the Jagan," and thus I use a "the" in front of his name, as well. Compare when Hiei and Gouki are mentioned together to when Kurama and Kuronue are mentioned together. Not only are they less of a unit (the former being mere associates while the latter are genuine partners), but the "the" is _only_ given to Hiei. I've italicized the relevant Japanese word when I'm using it as a species name or title. If and when demonic clans show up, I'll treat those as proper last names and not italicize them.

I'm not exactly a linguist and I don't know a lot of the professional terminology, but I did put some thought into this, and the grammar (if somewhat unconventional) is deliberate. Now to see if I can keep it consistent...

* * *

 **A note on the chapter:**

And so Kuronue becomes a spirit detective, in his own way. One of the things I'm trying to do (that so far seems to be successful) is to have a similar set-up in this fic as is in the anime/manga, but with with entirely different motivations and/or methods. Same end goals, different paths through the wood. This will be especially interesting when it comes to Hiei and how he'll work with the rest of the group... I can already tell you Hiei is going to cause me, personally, a lot of trouble. But, that's for later.

Welcome back to the longer chapters! I think the last one is going to be the shortest in the fic, or at _least_ the shortest for a while. Next week's especially is a monster (almost 5k!) and one of my favorites. Shuuichi's only had a cameo so far, but chapter five will introduce him properly, so be patient, please. Over ten thousand words and the plot is only now starting to pick up...

We're also coming to the serious differences between _This is How You Remind Me_ and _Sehnsucht._ So far it's mostly been scenes that were alluded to in the original take but never actually shown, along with some tweaking of motivations that should have put people back in character. Next week takes a sudden sharp left, though. I'm looking forward to it, though I don't know about all the rest of you.

Final note/confession: I was extremely tempted to kill Shiori off last chapter. Starting the rewrite, I fully intended to (it was one of the thoughts that prompted the rewrite, in fact). Buuuut, no. I had mercy. And a few ideas that required her to still be alive to work. Plus I'm already turning Shuuichi's world on it's ears; having him grieving for his mom at the same time would have been too messy.

Also, yes, I need to standardize the format of the definitions at the beginning. I know. I'm just lazy.

No anonymous reviews this week, though thanks go to Tiakay and Unita for their reviews on chapter three.

If you read and enjoyed this chapter, please review!


	5. Seeker of Truths

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _dépaysement (org. French):_ n. when someone is taken out of their own familiar world into a new one

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Seeker of Truths**

* * *

 _In Which A Traveler Encounters Trouble On the Road_

* * *

Minamino Shuuichi could only call his last month extreme. His mother's health had taken a critical turn, throwing him into despair. A melodramatic word choice, perhaps, but the only one he could think appropriate. He only bothered to care for himself because if he allowed himself to fall ill, his mother would worry and stress her already far too delicate health. He ate without tasting the food and woke without remembering going to bed.

School had been nothing but another trial. Mother had always been so proud of his education, so Shuuichi attended with the same sense of detached duty which had possessed him since his mother's collapse. His teachers had been impressed by his dedication—he maintained the highest scores and a perfect attendance record, in spite of his mother's illness. Their continual praise had left a sour taste in his mouth, until he'd finally stood, walked out of his mathematics class, and out the school gate. Second period hadn't even begun.

While Shuuichi hadn't regretted the stunt at the time (and honestly still didn't), it had required some very fast talking on his part to avoid the consequences once he began to feel human again after his mother's miraculous recovery.

Miraculous recovery… What an accurate description. As grateful as Shuuichi was for his mother's restored health, he couldn't help but remember the doctor's bewilderment, the blank test results which denied the cancer in his mother's body to have ever existed… and…

Shuuichi had spent much of the rest of the month in the school library. When this yielded inadequate information, he attempted the public library, then ventured into two different university libraries, claiming to be writing a sociology paper upon the cross-cultural similarities between anthropomorphic representations of death. The principal had been thrilled to make the necessary arrangements when Shuuichi alluded to the possibility of future publication. Anything to improve the school's reputation.

Shuuichi was not as pleased with the results of his research. In the tradition of so many scientists and researchers before him, he had developed a theory which merely hinted at further impossibilities and left him with greater questions. If true, he might very well have stumbled upon a single thread of a much larger tapestry.

That night in the hospital, _something_ had passed over and through him, like fingers of wind through his hair as he lay where he had collapsed upon his mother's bed, still holding her scarred hands. Shuuichi had woken at this… not invasion. Invasion was too violent a word for the feeling of peace and guidance and sympathy the presence had exuded. Examination, then. It was as if his soul were a flower plucked from a meadow, lifted and turned and discarded again. Found undesirable? Inadequate?

No matter. Shuuichi had woken at the examination to the sure knowledge there was a presence in the room with him and his mother. He had seen her, heard her speak, and then watched her fly away upon an oar of all things, passing through two feet of solid concrete as she did so. The oar had been his greatest clue in the end, and what gave him a tentative conclusion. The young woman had been a _shinigami_ , one of those said to ferry the spirits of the dead to the afterlife and judgment at the hands of the god Enma.

So. Death had come for his mother that night. Which meant calling her continued vitality "miraculous" was no hyperbole, but the absolute truth. His mother should have died, and however grateful and relieved he was that she hadn't, however reluctant he was to question this boon in fear of it being ripped away and breaking him more thoroughly than before—and he had been breaking while he watched her waste away in the coldly impersonal hospital bed with nothing to be done, nothing to be done, _nothing he could do_ —he didn't want to question this turn in fortune. Yet Shuuichi had always been cursed with more curiosity than could be considered safe, and so the question of _how, how, how?_ pounded in his head until he thought it might drive him mad. How did his mother live, when even Death expected to take her away any minute? How did this pastel blue and pink woman even exist? How could no one else see her? How had he?

And if spirits and the _shinigami_ who transported them existed, were more than simple stories… What else might move in the shadows of this world?

Shuuichi had exhausted the academic, secondary sources which might give him answers. He needed a primary source—someone else who had experienced something of the sort, who could aid him. _Or at the least,_ Shuuichi admitted to himself as he unlocked the door to his home, _someone who can assure me I haven't been seeing things. Remember Occam's Razor. Which is the more likely explanation? That there are spirits and ghosts and a secret world, or that I was simply seeing things as a result of poor nutrition, high emotional stress, and sleep deprivation?_

Perhaps Maaya… If she had not had genuine 'experiences' herself, she might very well know someone who had. None of the ghost-hunting adventures Maaya had convinced him to go on had been convincingly successful, but he knew she had gone on excursions alone. _Either way, I'll have to apologize to her for being such a skeptic. I_ hate _admitting I was wrong._

"I'm home!" he called into the house, toeing his shoes off at the door. "Mother?" There was a crash from the kitchen, and Shuuichi dropped his messenger bag and leapt forward. Another collapse? Had his questions been deemed ungrateful? Was he going to lose her all over again?

No. Shuuichi's heart eased as he saw her standing at the kitchen table. Shards of porcelain lay scattered at her feet. She must have dropped a bowl. Unusual for his meticulous mother, but so much better than what he had feared. "Don't scare me like that," he said, slumping against the door jamb. "I thought you might have…" The words trailed off as he began processing other details of the scene. Shiori had not collapsed, no, but she was pale and trembling, wisps of dark hair escaping from her tight bun to stick to the sweat on her forehead. "Mother?"

Shiori raised her head and fixed him with a wild stare. One hand jerked across the kitchen table in short, uncontrolled spasms, until her fingers curled around the hilt of a knife. She raised it in a grip that said _weapon_ , not _tool_.

Shuuichi dove for her, not sure which scared him more: that his mother had picked up the knife to use on him, or upon herself. The kitchen table between them may have put him at a disadvantage, but she backed away rather than around, and he was able to corner her against the counter. The knife clattered to the floor.

He found another disadvantage—he would not hurt her, while she had no qualms about hurting him. She shrieked and clawed and bit like a wild thing, ignoring his words. He managed to pin her against the counter, though he had to use a joint lock and the entire weight of his body to do so. Even then, she bucked and thrashed with inhuman strength, straining in his hold to the point that she almost dislocated her own shoulder. He narrowly avoided a head butt that would have otherwise broken his nose, though it still glanced off his cheekbone and throbbed in a way that promised a black eye. Still, Shuuichi kept up a soft stream of nonsense comforts: "Shh, it's all right, it's all right, I'm not going to hurt you, Mother, please. Please! I'm here, you're safe! Calm down, Mother, _please_."

Nothing worked. Unable to think of anything else, Shuuichi changed the lock so he could free one hand and cover her mouth and nose—the most humane way he could think of to knock her out. It took entirely too long to work, but at last her struggles weakened and she slumped against him.

Shuuichi guided her to lie on the ground, placing her on her side in a recovery position, and sat against the lower cabinets. Now the crisis had passed, his hands were shaking, and his eyes were suspiciously wet. He took a deep breath, then another. On the third, he forced himself to his knees, crouching over his mother to check her pulse and breathing. Neither were abnormal, which was a relief…

An insect two inches long slithered out of his mother's mouth and towards him. With a yelp, Shuuichi slammed his hand down on top of it. It squished, green goop smearing across his palm and smelling like rotting meat. Gagging and deeply regretting the _must_ _kill!_ reflex, Shuuichi washed his hands at the sink and tried to force his mind to work past the quiet chant of _ew, ew, ew, ew_ it had taken up. He'd only just started to feel sanitary again when he heard his mother stir.

"Shuuichi?" she said as he knelt beside her, offering an arm to lean against. "What happened? I was… in the garden…"

"I'm not sure," he said slowly. He'd never seen that species before, in books or in real life, and could only say it resembled a cockroach crossed with a centipede, plus stinger. _Ugh_. Somehow, Shuuichi doubted his mother would react well to some sort of bug crawling out of her mouth, never mind attacking him with a knife.

"Shuuichi, your eye!"

No, she wouldn't take the last few minutes well at all. "It'll be fine, mother. I startled you when I came in, and you slipped and fell. I caught my eye on the countertop when I tried to catch you," he said. "Really, I think I made it all worse. You still hit your head, and now I've worried you, too."

"I'll be all right, dear, but you should put some ice on that."

"No," he said, shaking his head and thinking of the insect again. "I'll do it when I get back. I only stopped by for a few minutes."

"Library again?" His mother reached up, brushing fingers through his red hair. "You work so hard you forget to take care of yourself! Look at this mess!" She tugged lightly on his hair, smiling as she teased. Shuuichi suspected she was trying to divert his own concern, just as he was trying to do hers, and couldn't help but smile at their similarities.

"I'll make an appointment for a haircut, Mother." It really was getting a bit out of hand—almost long enough to tie back, now, and threatening to break the school dress code. If it weren't for his intellect, his red hair and green eyes would have gotten him into trouble long ago. As it was, his mother had had to lend him baby pictures to prove to the vice principal his hair color was natural, not dyed. His moderate height came from his father, his high cheekbones and soft jaw-line from his mother, but both of his parents had dark hair and dark eyes, as any proper Japanese would. Ah well. He seemed fated to be memorable.

Shiori hummed, and used his hair to tug him down and plant a kiss on his forehead. "I think you'd look rather dashing with long hair, actually," she said, brown eyes sparking with mischief. "When can I expect you back from the library?"

"I'm not sure," he said, helping her up. "And don't think you've distracted me from your head injury. You were in the hospital two weeks ago! I'll bring dinner back, so you just rest for a few hours. Promise?"

"Take some money from my purse, then," she said, leaning against his shoulder briefly before moving to the living room, picking up a book from the side table.

"I'll call you if anything changes," Shuuichi promised, pushing his feet back into his shoes. "But I should be back before eight." Three hours would give him more than enough time to see if this insect was in any entomological guide.

"Be safe!"

Shuuichi waved, slung his bookbag back over his shoulder, and stepped outside into hell.

The air was filled with a low buzz from dozens of insects—all a steel blue and similar to the one he had seen crawling from his mother. There weren't enough of them for a swarm, but there were far too many in the air for it to be normal. How had he not noticed them on his walk home? Had he really been that distracted?

Half a block in front of him, a man in a suit slouched right towards a cloud of the insects, shoulders hunched in a way that hinted at a midlife crisis in the works. "No, wait!" Shuuichi called, and ran forward to stop him, only to see one of the insects land on his shoulder, crawl up his jaw, and slither into his ear. The man stumbled to a halt, skin paling as he was wracked by a full body shudder. He jerked upright, and lurched into a nearby alleyway with a groan.

Bile rose in the back of Shuuichi's throat, but he stopped and leaned against a storefront to consider what he knew.

Fact: the man had walked right into a cloud of these unnatural bugs. Fact: He had not brushed the insect off when it landed.

Conclusion: it was unlikely most people could see or feel the bugs.

Fact: A bug had crawled into the man's ear, and he had changed. Uncoordinated movements, feral behavior. Fact: His mother had displayed similar symptoms before he had knocked her out, and a bug crawled out of her mouth. When she had woken, she had been cured.

Conclusion: Somehow, these bugs changed the behavior of those they inhabited. Loss of consciousness drove them from their host.

Shuuichi took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. He had yet to see one of these insects enter a building, which meant (hopefully) that his mother would be fine as long as she was inside. He slung his bag off his shoulder, gripping the handle tightly. For whatever reason, the insects had fluttered away without attempting him. Which made no sense, really.

Still thinking through this newest puzzle and clutching the strap of his makeshift weapon, Shuuichi continued down the street on the way to the library. In the distance, he could hear shouting and breaking glass. A riot? Well, if these insects made people violent, that could only be expected.

There was a droning buzz behind him, and Shuuichi spun. Five insects were flying towards him, and he hefted his book bag, wishing for a more effective weapon. The insects hovered in midair, before angling up to fly over him. Shuuichi spun on his heel once again and gave chase.

At first the otherworldly insects didn't seem to have any destination, drifting along and searching for those to infect. Shuuichi saw fewer and fewer potential victims as he moved downtown, following the growing cloud of insects and trying to figure out why they all seemed to ignore him. Curious as he was, he was also not rash enough to deliberately attract their attention to see if he was right. Shuuichi switched strategies when he noticed that the infected did seem to have a final goal: a middle school, of all places, not far from the riots.

Shuuichi paused across the street from the school gate. It looked standard enough—one large concrete-and-cinder-block building, four or five stories tall. The off-white paint had been washed red orange with the light of the setting sun, and there were a few scraggly trees planted along the perimeter.

"Sarayashiki Middle School," Shuuichi read off the sign. "What on earth is so important for this sort of assault?" Because it must have been an assault. Not at first, perhaps—the attack upon his mother and the salaryman both felt random—but at some point over the last half hour, a target had been selected. Really, that opened up a whole new set of questions. Evidence suggested the insects could be controlled, but how? By whom? What could be gained in a standard middle school? And why was this happening at all?

Shuuichi was already halfway through the grounds when he heard the scream. Female, terrified, and definitely coming from inside the school. He broke into a run, briefly thankful that most schools relied upon the same basic floor plan and that he spent far more time than most in his school. There weren't (thank the heavens) as many of the infected as Shuuichi had expected, and most were too slow to have even a hope of catching him. Those few that tried went down quickly to a well-aimed blow from his bag. Not the most efficient weapon, books, but effective enough. Panting slightly, Shuuichi skidded to a halt on the second floor.

Half a dozen men were grouped around a forced and crumpled door, all with their backs to him. Shuuichi paused, evaluating his chances. Under normal circumstances, he would not be able to defeat six adults, all a head taller and heavier than himself. It would be foolish to try. However, they were distracted, and though the parasites seemed to give their hosts unexpected strength, they were slow. He was running high on adrenaline and had the element of surprise, as well as speed and superior training—all of which outweighed their greater numbers and superior strength. He hoped. There was a metallic crash from inside the room, and Shuuichi surged forward, deliberations done.

Two fell to strikes from his bag. A third had the presence of mind to snatch at the weapon instead of Shuuichi, and he abandoned it without a second thought, snapping out with a kick to his side and following it up with a knife hand strike to his neck. The man collapsed. A fourth went for him while he was distracted, seizing the front of his shirt. Shuuichi counter grabbed the man's wrist, turned, and sent him over his hip to slam into the floor. He left the man winded on his back; he'd deal with him in a moment. The fifth and sixth came at him together. Shuuichi stepped to the right, letting one lunge past him with—were those scissors? Another quick blow to the neck dropped him, just as the sixth managed to grab his shoulder from behind. This one he grabbed by the shirt and the wrist, pivoted and went down on one knee. The man flipped over his shoulder and landed on top of the fourth just as he was beginning to recover—faster than Shuuichi had expected. He'd kept his grip on the sixth man's arm, and now forced it up and back into a painful lock until the shoulder popped free. Brutal, but necessary. Five out of six unconscious or incapacitated, now, with the first one he'd thrown struggling to regain his breath for the second time.

Shuuichi struggled back to his feet to see what the insects had been after in the classroom, and didn't quite manage to dodge the broom handle swung his way. The strike numbed his left arm from the shoulder down, and he stepped back quickly. The brunette wielding the broom was panting for breath and shaking, brown eyes wild and scared. The sleeve of her uniform was torn and wet with blood. "Wait!" he said, throwing up a hand and taking another step back.

"Keiko- _chan_!" A second girl joined her in the doorway, also holding a broom. "Come on, we need to—Ah!" She cried out upon seeing the still struggling man on the floor, and slammed the end of her broom into his temple. Shuuichi glanced over their shoulders to see another four or five unconscious men inside the classroom in front of a crushed supply cabinet. Bugs were lifting into the air, only to touch back down seconds later. Unconscious for the moment, then, but they would soon be in pursuit. Shuuichi turned his attention back to the young woman, and froze. She fidgeted. "Um, who are you? And why are you staring at me like that?"

This was the girl he had seen two weeks ago, he was certain of it. Even dye couldn't get that exact shade of sky blue, let alone manage the highlights and undertones that meant it was completely natural. But she was interacting with her friend in a completely normal fashion, and was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, not the pink kimono he had first seen her in. "Well," she said at last when Shuuichi didn't answer, and tugged Keiko along again. "Um, it was nice meeting you, but we need to run, literally. Come on, Keiko- _chan_."

"Give me the broom, take the scissors, and head for the stairs," Shuuichi demanded, holding out one hand. "I don't know why these men are after you, but I'll help." Quiet groans from inside the classroom announced immanent pursuit. "No time to argue!" he snapped, snatching the broom from the _shinigami_ 's hand.

"But why—"

This time the brunette grabbed her friend's hand to tug her along. "He's right, Botan- _san_ , we've got to get out of here!"

Shuuichi brought up the rear, mind matching pace with his racing heartbeat. To his dismay, the girls turned up the stairs rather than down, and stopped when they reached the third floor. Not the type to watch horror movies, were they? He could hear their pursuers regrouping below them, just glimpse them beginning to come up the stairs. He turned to Keiko, who was actually wearing a school uniform and thus more likely to be familiar with the specifics of the layout. "Does this staircase lead to the roof?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, thank heavens," he sighed. First bit of luck today. "We won't have to run down the hall and hope they're not smart enough to attempt a pincer movement." He pushed both girls ahead of him. "Up, all the way up. I'll guard the rear, but don't stop!"

The door was locked, but then he hadn't expected or needed it to be open. Single access made it impossible for an ambush, the narrower staircase meant the enemy's numbers advantage was less effective, and Shuuichi held the high ground. Turning down would have meant getting out of the school and increased the likelihood of definite escape, but this was at least a moderately defensible position.

Shuuichi pressed a foot down on the brush of the broom, unscrewing the handle and keeping his eyes on the staircase. The numbness in his arm had given way to an uncomfortable tingling as the nerves began to work again. The infected were hesitating at the fourth floor, just out of sight. They were likely regrouping. "Why are they after you, Keiko- _san_?"

"How did you—?" Botan started.

"You addressed each other by name—Keiko- _san_ and Botan- _san_. Their pursuit of you means they seek a person, their assault of the school suggesting either a student or a teacher. Keiko is a student; you are not. Not—" he freed the broom handle with a grunt—"particularly difficult to figure out. As I asked, why are they after you?"

"I'm not sure, really," Keiko said. "Botan- _san_ , I know Yusuke's involved in this somehow!"

"Yukimura!" The bellow echoed up the stairway as one of the men charged. Shuuichi drove the butt of his make-shift staff into the man's gut and followed it up with a side strike to his shoulder. He lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs again, colliding with two of his comrades. A good beginning, but the adrenaline was beginning to wane and Shuuichi wasn't sure how long he could keep this up.

"Can you try and treat Keiko- _san_ 's shoulder?" Shuuichi asked, sliding his hands along the broom handle as he sought a more balanced grip.

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Botan said, and then added under her breath. "Hurry up and destroy that whistle, Yusuke! I don't think we can last much longer…"

A whistle? Of course, he'd thought earlier that the insects must have some master. If destroying the whistle would stop this assault, then the whistle must control the insects. Coupled with Keiko's attachment to this Yusuke and a presumed return affection, that explained everything—aside from who exactly Yusuke was, and what a guide of the dead was doing helping him, and who precisely was pulling the strings. Though at least the last question was somewhat less important.

Now, if only he could manage to keep the three of them alive long enough for Botan to answer the rest of his questions.

The next five minutes were a blur. Botan fixed Keiko's arm up enough to stop the bleeding, and the two girls joined him at the top of the stairs. Though untrained and thus inefficient, their enthusiasm served well to beat back the waves of infected, allowing Shuuichi the chance to catch his breath. Still, the trio could not continue like this. They were badly outnumbered, and their strength all too human when compared to their attackers', who simply kept coming however many times they were knocked down. The insects merely reclaimed their hosts and forced them up again.

A crack of something almost like lightning fizzed across Shuuichi's nerves, and he shuddered, stifling a gasp. The infected froze, before every last one of them wavered and toppled over where they stood. Beside him, Botan yelped, then gave a whoop of victory. "Yes! That's it! Your boy's done it again, Keiko- _chan_!" She laughed, seizing the brunette in a tight hug and spinning. "I never doubted for an instant!"

"Yes, but—what's he done?" Keiko asked, even as a relieved grin spread over her face.

Shuuichi watched the celebration in silence, leaning on the broom handle. Now the danger was passed, he could stop long enough to take stock of his various aches and pains. His eye was throbbing, the shoulder Keiko had landed a hit on would definitely be bruised by morning, his hip was bleeding sluggishly from a gash when one of them had gotten a bit too close, sundry scrapes and bruises decorated his arms, and his hair was a tangled disaster. All in all, he looked like he'd been in a fight. _Mother will not be pleased… Especially as I suspect I'm late by now. I'll have to call her soon._

He sighed, and even that slight noise was enough to attract the girls' attention. Keiko was the first to move, breaking away from Botan's grip and bowing. "Thank you very much," she said. "I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't shown up out of nowhere like you had…"

The question was only implied, so Shuuichi sidestepped it neatly and bowed to her in return. "I heard a scream," he said. He had no intentions of answering their questions until he had asked a few of his own. "I am Minamino Shuuichi."

"Oh!" Botan said suddenly, and waved when Keiko looked at her with a frown. "No, nothing, I just… thought of something completely unrelated, that's all!"

Keiko didn't look entirely convinced, but returned her attention to him. "Minamino- _san_ _._ You're a student?"

"First year in high school, yes." He gestured down the staircase. "We should leave while we have the chance, just in case. Do the pair of you have somewhere safe you can go?"

Botan looked unsure, but Keiko nodded. "The Kuwabaras'. Their parents are pretty lax, Shizuru- _san_ leant me some clothes, and Kazuma- _kun_ is a friend of Yusuke's."

"I'll accompany you," Shuuichi said. "I insist," he added when it looked as if Botan might protest. "We've been granted a reprieve, but that's no guarantee you won't be attacked again. I will feel much better when I know you are safely home. If you'll allow me to fetch my bag from below, we can be on our way."

This was not entirely true, of course, but he had few qualms about lying to them. Keiko clearly had less of an idea what had happened than he did, and if Botan _wasn't_ trying to figure out a convincing story to feed her, he'd eat nightshade. He was more likely to get truthful answers if he let her come up with a story and then poked holes in it, rather than letting her know what he knew and allowing her the time to think of some alternate explanation. So, walk them to a safe space, leave them to recover for the night, and return the next day to press for answers.

The possibility of walking away entirely didn't even occur to him, though perhaps it should have. Certainly it would have to anyone else who had been through the same afternoon's peril. Shuuichi's curiosity, though, would not let him rest so easily. Which was more dangerous, seeking the knowledge necessary so he would be prepared if and when something happened, or choosing ignorance and hoping the supernatural forces that lived in the cracks of his world would continue to pay him no heed? It was not in Shuuichi's nature to sit idly by and trust luck to keep him alive and his mother safe. No, not if there was even the slightest chance of defending himself. Even after he had tasted the danger inherent in this darker side of reality, walking away was no longer an option.

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _shinigami:_ literally "death god." Here refers to Botan and her colleagues, the girls who ferry the souls of the dead from this world to the next for judgement.

- _chan:_ a Japanese honorific that is used to refer to address young children of either gender, or a girl who is not yet an adult. Often used between girlfriends and to address a girl younger than you. There isn't really an English equivalent.

 _-san:_ a Japanese honorific used to address people of similar or superior social standing or age, and those you do not know well. Rough English equivalent would be "Mr." or "Ms.", but it's used much more often much more flexibly. (And yes, I checked, Keiko does refer to Botan as Botan - _san,_ not _-chan)._

 _-kun:_ Similar to - _chan,_ but used for older boys, rather than girls. Keiko's girlfriends in the first episode, the ones that wonder why she's talking to Yusuke, refer to him as Urameshi- _kun._ Keiko's status as his childhood friend/love interest/keeper means she just calls him Yusuke.

Fun fact: in the actual anime, Kurama calls Kuwabara "Kuwabara- _kun_ " more than once, even though he addresses both Hiei and Yusuke without honorifics. I found it interesting, and if I ever watch the anime straight through instead of just picking and choosing my favorite fights and getting distracted, I'm going to write down how everyone refers to everyone else and how that changes over time...

* * *

 **Notes on this chapter:**

Apologies for the minor delay on getting this chapter up.

First contact between Shuuichi and the spirit detectives! Sort of. I _really_ like writing Shuuichi. Like, a lot. For a lot of different reasons. I also managed to get a mention of Maaya in there, which I wasn't expecting to work this chapter but managed to slip in on editing. Maaya is the girl from the extra short that explains how Kurama and Hiei met, and she'll show up for another couple of conversations later. The short is in volume seven of the manga, at the very end. (I've a fondness for that short because bb!Kurama with short hair is _adorable._ ) Speaking of hair, I'm pretty sure it's clear, but Shuuichi has yet to grow his hair out _nearly_ as long as it is in the anime. It's about jaw length here. He intends to get a hair cut, but with everything going on, it won't happen. I might have to doodle how he looks later, because it's a rather endearing mess of waves and curls in my head.

I'm pretty sure that's all I have to say about this chapter, though I also can't help but feel I've forgotten something...

No anonymous review replies, but another grateful shout out to Unita and TiaKay, who once again were my only reviews for the last chapter. Come on, guys, I know more than two people are reading this every week... Please drop me a review? I'll beg if I have to.

(Also, props to Unita who one hundred percent called the involvement of the Makai insects way back in chapter two. Seriously impressed, though I'm wondering if I'm that predictable...? Well, hopefully the execution wasn't something you were quite expecting.)


	6. Post-Battle Breakfast

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _tantenverführer (org. German)_ : n. literally "aunt seducer"; a young man of excessively good manners whom you suspect of devious motives

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Post-Battle Breakfast**

* * *

 _In Which Our Thief's Life is Unnecessarily Complicated_

* * *

The Great Master Plan was not progressing in the way Kuronue had hoped it would. Good things about the last month: Kurama was definitely alive, as Koenma confirmed his soul had never been processed, thus never collected, thus not dead. Hiei had _not_ killed him for volunteering him to work for _Reikai_ , though there was a suspicious gleam in his eye that sometimes made Kuronue think he was still considering it. And… No, that was about it.

Bad things: Kurama still hadn't been found, and two weeks was beginning to push Kuronue's already limited patience. In the meantime, he had to deal with Koenma and his detectives. Yusuke wasn't so bad, for a human, but Kuronue still had to agree with Hiei when he called their first mission 'baby-sitting.'

Luckily the Saint Beasts didn't seem to have much sense, let alone a grasp of basic strategy. If they had, they'd have just stayed hidden and let their dysfunctional "team" take themselves out. Instead, the idiots had actually appeared for one-on-one fights. It was all strangely civilized, considering they were working with _youkai_ , here.

Hiei had matched up against the first Beast, impatient and irritated with everyone—Kuwabara for being an idiot, Yusuke for defeating him and then trusting him, Kuronue for stealing his thunder and using his wind powers to lift the lever at the oh-so-frightening Gate of Betrayal (not to mention the ongoing grudge for getting him involved with the 'good guys' in the first place). The fight had been over as soon as Genbu had revealed his big trick of breaking himself apart and turning his very body into an attack. Hiei's _jagan_ was literally made for finding things, and when Genbu's core gave off enough pulsing, red _ki_ even Kuronue could see it, it was a simple matter for Hiei to pierce it with a _youki_ enhanced sword-strike. He'd gotten away without a scratch, and had no qualms about informing the rest of the team that they'd never manage so well.

Kuwabara, of course, had taken this as a personal challenge and immediately claimed the next fight as his own. Which, when you know absolutely nothing about your opponent, is a surefire way to get yourself killed—and considering how close Kuwabara had come during his matches with Byakko (gods, cats really did have nine lives), it really only proved the point. First the four hairballs, then Byakko sucking away all of Kuwabara's _ki_ , _then_ almost falling into a pit of lava… Yeah, watching Kuwabara struggle would have been hilarious if there hadn't been so much riding on their victory and if the other teenager hadn't been wound so tight during the whole fiasco. Yusuke had been frantic with worry for his friend, and Kuronue was more concerned than he'd expected himself to be.

Kuronue could feel himself becoming attached to these humans, and honestly wasn't sure what to make of it. He still hadn't made sense of Yusuke's actions with the Forlorn Hope. He owed the kid a life-debt, and he took those things seriously. Even though he'd sort of repaid that during the ensuing fight for the Shadow Sword… Kuronue had found himself looking forward to the mission once Koenma had given him the assignment, babysitting or not. There was just something about Yusuke's brash and bright fighting spirit that earned a grudging respect from anyone who could recognize that warrior's soul. Even Hiei wasn't immune, judging by the increasing time he spent sulking.

That respect meant that Kuronue was happy to leave the leader of the Saint Beasts to Yusuke, the leader of this ragtag team of unexpected do-gooders. He'd faced up against Seiryu, and he only had one thing to say about that fight: screw ice manipulators. He hoped the bastard's soul was dropped somewhere nice and hot and dry, so he'd know what it felt like to be completely miserable in an unsuitable temperature. It hadn't been as quick as Hiei's fight, but Kuronue didn't have an honor code (like Hiei and Kuwabara), or an insane amount of luck (like Yusuke). He also didn't need to come up with some overly complicated strategy that took into account the opponent's every possible move before making his own first step.

So as soon as Byakko had been iced (in more ways than one), Kuronue had attacked without further warning and kept up the offensive as long as possible. He'd gotten frostbite in some fingers and toes, but Seiryu had lost his head to his scythes, so Kuronue figured he'd come off on top in that little skirmish. Even if he still hadn't stopped shivering. _Bastard_.

Though Seiryu wasn't nearly as much of a bastard as Suzaku. As soon as they'd reached the roof, the watchtower in sight, he'd set hoards of walking plant zombies on them to stall. And they'd gotten a call from Botan at the same time, letting them know that Suzaku was now deliberately targeting Keiko—which, of course, gave them a neat little deadline and managed to piss Yusuke off even more than he was already. They'd bypassed the time-wasting cultivated humans by catapulting Yusuke through a window, so Kuronue didn't really see most of the fight against Suzaku, just the odd explosion or two and way too much lightning to be safe. By the time the rest of the team had caught up (and at that point, they really were beginning to feel more like a team, dysfunctional as they were), there'd been seven Suzakus wielding a hell of a lot of electricity bearing down on a Yusuke who'd been running on fumes and fury.

Suzaku hadn't had a chance. The entire room was destroyed, cementing Kuronue's respect for Yusuke's potential. It had been Kuwabara's turn to flip out about his friend being dead, and Hiei and Kuronue had been left to pick up the pieces of the _Makai_ flute and haul two unconscious bodies through Maze Castle and back to the rendezvous point in _Ningenkai_. Thank the gods booby traps weren't activated from both directions, because Kuronue did not at all feel like playing rogue and rolling to disable trap right then.

When Botan was not at the rendezvous point as arranged, Hiei had confirmed he had a heart by using his _jagan_ to find her. He'd then also confirmed he was still a pint-sized jerk by leaving Kuronue with two dead weights to drag to Kuwabara's house. And right before he flitted out of sight, Hiei had gotten off a parting shot to make sure Kuronue had no doubts he was a first-rate bastard.

"Never thought I'd see the great thief Kuronue running errands for _Reikai_ …"

 _Life used to be so simple,_ Kuronue complained to himself, hoisting Kuwabara higher over his shoulder as the human began to slip. _See the shiny. Take the shiny. Repeat as desired. Now it's a mess of keep two idiotically loyal humans alive through missions for Reikai, stay alive yourself during missions for Reikai, stop angry midget from blowing your cover out of spite, maintain cover from toddler-sized employer while convincing said employer to let you back into Makai so you can search the entire plane for a single, extremely-well-hidden-to-the-point-of-nonexistent aura… Dammit. At least I'm not bored anymore._

"Kuroji!" He forced his head up, meeting Botan's eyes as she rushed towards him. "What happened? Where's Hiei?"

"Don't know, he ran off as soon as we were back in _Ningenkai_ ," Kuronue said, dumping Yusuke into Botan's arms. "As for what happened to these two, wonder boy tapped into his life energy to kill Suzaku. Wonder boy number two flipped out and poured _his_ life energy into him to keep him alive."

"Idiot," Botan grumbled, arranging Yusuke so that he was nestled against her back. "Really."

"Hey, you're stronger than you look!" Kuronue said. He hadn't had any real problems with the weight, but managing two bodies got a bit unwieldy. Botan seemed to have warmed up to him ever since the showdown with Hiei, and he liked the bubbly ferry girl well enough now she didn't want to hit him with rocks every time she saw him. "So, fill me in on what happened here. Keiko's all right?"

"Oh! Yes, she's perfectly fine. Shizuru- _san_ is letting her sleep in her bed right now, and she's already called her parents to let them know she's staying at a friend's house, so that's all taken care of. It was the strangest thing, though…" She trailed off as they turned the corner onto the Kuwabaras' street. "This boy showed up out of nowhere."

"Oh? Was he any help?"

"Extremely so, that's the strange part. I was certain he was human."

Kuronue frowned. "Was?"

Botan shook her head. "No, nothing. He prevented us from being surrounded and used a broom handle to keep the possessed people away from us. After the whistle was destroyed, everyone just collapsed. He still insisted on walking us to Kuwabara's house—Keiko- _chan_ has gone there before to be safe."

Kuronue hummed. "Did he give you a name?"

"Yes, he did. Minamino Shuuichi… I'll be asking Koenma- _sama_ about him tomorrow. He said he was on his way to the library when he heard a scream, so he came to help."

"What a lucky coincidence." Too bad he'd never trusted coincidences.

"Yes," Botan agreed.

"He's not still there?"

"No, that's the other thing! He acted as if this sort of thing happened all the time—dropped us off, made sure Shizuru- _san_ could take care of us, borrowed the bathroom to clean up, asked no questions, and left!" Botan scowled fiercely, turning down the Kuwabara's driveway. "Before I could get any answers from him, either! When I get my hands on him…"

"Seems Keiko's been rubbing off on you," Kuronue laughed. "So scary."

"Oh, shut it, bat," Botan said, leaning against the doorbell. The woman who opened the doorway shared Kuwabara's height and (lucky her), nothing else. Dressed plainly and with a cigarette dangling from her lips, Kuwabara's sister dragged a hand through her straight brown hair. Extremely sharp dark brown eyes went from Botan to Yusuke to Kuronue to Kuwabara. "I knew baby brother did something stupid again," she said, removing the cigarette and tapping the loose ash free. "Botan, what have I told you about bringing back stray _youkai_?"

Kuronue grinned. Okay, so height and a damn strong sixth sense. He could like this one. "Kuroji," he said. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but your brother is making that a little hard. I'm one of the good guys."

"Mkay," Shizuru said with a laconic shrug, but stepped back. "You gonna need bandages?" She gestured for Botan to carry Yusuke up to the second floor. "What's wrong with them?"

"It's mostly exhaustion," Kuronue volunteered, since Botan had escaped as soon as she could. "Where do you…?"

"Eh, follow Botan up and drop him on the floor of his room," Shizuru said. "I'll make some tea and you two can tell me exactly what happened."

"Mind if I crash here?" Kuronue called after her. She waved without turning around, which Kuronue decided meant _do what you want_. Excellent. He wasn't _I'm about to pass out_ exhausted, and he wasn't bleeding, but he was still tired and shivery and sore. If explaining everything that had happened (again) was the only price he had to pay for a place on the couch, he'd be more than willing to do it. Breakfast should be interesting, at least.

* * *

The next morning, Kuwabara came stumbling down the stairs almost as soon as Kuronue had put the bacon on the stove, blurting out "You can cook?" with almost insulting surprise.

"What, you thought I ate my meat raw?" Kuronue said, turning the bacon over with a fork.

"Nah, it's just… I guess I didn't really think about _youkai_ doing normal things like cooking and stuff." Kuwabara poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat down. "Um. Is Shizuru around?"

"I thought I heard my baby brother's voice." Shizuru came in from the living room, where she'd been combing through their CD collection—she and Kuronue had started talking music that morning, and discovered they shared more than a few favorites. She tossed the CD over towards Kuronue (who caught it one-handed without looking) and immediately started laying into her brother. The lecture was only interrupted fifteen minutes later when Botan and Keiko appeared. Yusuke was unlikely to wake up for another few days according to the _shinigami_ , who was the only one among them experienced enough with _reiki_ to give any sort of estimate.

As soon as she'd finished eating, Keiko dragged Botan into the living room for an intensive question-answer session. Kuronue kept an ear on it and tried not to laugh loudly enough for them to hear. Drug rings? Hypnotism? The closest thing to the truth was that Yusuke was working for a private detective, but that didn't explain why he was currently unconscious. Luckily Keiko was too worried about whether or not he would be all right to realize Botan didn't answer how he'd gotten that way.

Keiko accepted the explanation, though, and decided she would be heading to the school to find out what everyone there thought. Botan returned to the kitchen and buried her face in her arms with a groan.

"You need lessons in lying," Kuronue said, nursing a cup of black coffee. Botan lifted her head to give him a narrowed eyed look that was a little too tired to be called a glare. "She's going to find out eventually," Kuronue pointed out with complete calm. "Especially if Yusuke keeps getting sent on these extremely dangerous missions. She only believed you because she's the trusting sort, she's too focused on making sure Yusuke's all right, and at core she doesn't _want_ to know about the things that go bump in the night."

"I know," Botan sighed. "But I hate lying to people, and she was so brave—you should have seen her. She was more upset that she slapped a teacher than that the teacher wanted to kill her!"

"Then don't lie to her. Tell her an edited version of the truth." He ignored the stronger glare this suggestion got him and went back to his coffee. He could make a killing smuggling this stuff into _Makai…_

Kuronue was on his second cup and watching Shizuru bully her brother into doing the dishes when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Kuwabara declared, dropping the frying pan into the sink (and soaking the front of Shizuru's shirt as he did) and practically running for the front door. Kuronue closed his eyes to listen, wrapping mental fingers around his _kusarigama_. Better paranoid than dead.

"Oh, um. Can I help you?" Kuwabara sounded more clueless than usual.

"This is the Kuwabara household, correct?" Androgynous but _probably_ male, young, precise, either intelligent or educated or both. "Is Botan- _san_ still here?"

Shizuru stopped cursing her brother long enough to lean into the hallway. "Minamino- _kun_ , isn't it?" she asked. Botan buried her face in her hands. "Yeah, she's here. Come on into the kitchen." Kuronue hid his grin behind his coffee cup. Oh, this was going to be fun. Shizuru was quickly becoming his favorite human—now he could watch the fireworks without having to move into the living room. "There's coffee in the pot, if you want it."

"Thank you very much. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." If Kuronue were in the habit of carrying a dictionary around with him, and for some unknown reason needed to look up _pretty boy,_ he'd find a picture of the well-dressed kid that followed Shizuru into the kitchen. The effect was only slightly spoiled by a purple bruise high on one cheekbone. Brilliantly red hair fell in soft waves to a soft, borderline-feminine jaw line. Emerald green eyes set over high cheekbones swept over Kuronue in an evaluation that sent a chill down his spine, before the boy met his eyes again and gave him a subtle, respectful nod—recognizing his potential for danger and acknowledging it. He shifted his attention to Botan, giving her a picture perfect smile that skirted the border between polite and friendly. Kuronue bit the inside of his lip, hard, to stop himself from grinning. Oh, yeah. This kid was here for answers, and he wasn't going to go away without them.

Kuwabara trailed after them both, scratching the back of his head. "Um, Botan? Who is this, and how does he know you?"

"Pardon, I should have introduced myself before. Minamino Shuuichi," he said, directing a short bow to the room at large, and then another one accompanied by a murmur of thanks to Shizuru when she handed him a cup of coffee. He claimed the seat across the table from Botan and crossed one long leg over the other, settling back into his chair with perfect self-assurance. Shizuru leaned against the counter and tapped out a cigarette, letting herself fade into the background. Kuronue had to give her some credit—listening in on whatever conversation was about to happen was probably the only way she'd get truthful answers of her own.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Kuwabara said, giving an awkward wave in the face of the boy's manners. "I'm Kuwabara Kazuma. Botan?"

"Erm, well…" Clearly uncomfortable with everyone's attention, Botan tapped her fingers together. "Minamino- _san_ helped me and Keiko- _chan_ out yesterday. We'd have been in a lot of trouble if he hadn't shown up, actually."

"Whoa, you can fight?" Kuwabara said. "No offense, but you don't look like you'd last long in a fistfight."

"None taken," Minamino allowed with a nod towards him. "I have training in aikido and shourin- _ryuu_ karate. My experience with the _bo_ particularly came in handy yesterday." He gave Botan a small smile, as if inviting her to share in some private joke. She just laughed nervously. "And please, Botan- _san,_ Shuuichi is fine."

The coffee and the potential entertainment had put Kuronue into an altruistic enough mood to rescue her. "Have you got a good voice?"

The boy's collected expression wavered slightly as he looked at Kuronue. "I'm sorry?"

"Can you sing?" Kuronue said. "Because kid, I'm telling you, looks like that? You've got to try out for a visual _kei_ band."

The _I'm going to get answers even if it kills you_ look slipped from Shuuichi's face as if it had never been. Instead, he looked almost innocent in his surprise, blinking at Kuronue as if not quite sure he had heard right. After a split second of processing, he laughed and dragged one hand through his hair. "One of these days, I will learn my lesson and start carrying my baby pictures in my wallet," he said. "My coloring is completely natural, though thank you for the compliment. I think."

"Amazingly enough, I'm not convinced," Kuronue said, and offered him a hand. "Kuroji."

"It's very nice to meet you," he said, and clasped his hand firmly. "As Botan- _san_ mentioned, I was able to help her and her friend out yesterday with some minor trouble."

"Oh?" Kuronue tilted his head to one side, leaning back and picking up his coffee again. "What sort of trouble?"

"Well, in all honesty, I was hoping Botan- _san_ could tell me. There were a dozen men chasing after them with intent to kill—at least, so it seemed to me." He looked back at Botan, lacing his fingers together and propping his chin on them. "I would have asked last night, of course, but it did not seem the best of times. Besides which, I had promised my mother I would pick up dinner, and I was close to running late. "

"Well," Botan said and shot a panicked look at Kuronue. He shrugged and busied himself with his coffee. Two cups was not enough for him to plot effectively. "Well… You see, they were after Keiko- _chan_ because she's really good friends with Urameshi Yusuke…" Shuuichi nodded encouragement. "And they wanted to hurt Yusuke because he's helping a private investigator bring in a drug ring!"

Oh, dear… On the one hand, sticking to a single story was a good idea, especially if Keiko and Shuuichi ran into each other again and compared notes. On the other hand, Botan's story wasn't that good of one to begin with. As Kuronue had pointed out earlier, Keiko accepted the holes in the explanation because she was emotionally invested and looking for an explanation that made sense. Shuuichi? Even without the determination veiled by soft-spoken politeness, that he'd waited until now to turn up asking questions showed he was on a quest. He wasn't just looking for answers; he was looking for the truth. Kuronue settled back in his chair to watch the show.

"Drugs could explain a great deal of their behavior," Shuuichi said slowly. "What were they distributing?"

"Erm. Opium?" Kuronue winced. _Reikai_ information was seriously out of date.

Both red eyebrows went up. "How very old-fashioned. I hadn't thought opium was circulated very often these days, considering the development of much stronger derivatives."

"B-but," Botan said, "They weren't on drugs, anyway. One of the leaders of the ring escaped, and he was trained as a hypnotist! So when he found out Yusuke was chasing after him, he hypnotized a bunch of people and set them on us." She nodded, satisfied she'd delivered her lines satisfactorily. Kuronue didn't look up from his coffee, certain that if he made eye-contact with anyone else he'd break a rib laughing. Kuwabara at least had the sense to stay quiet.

"Hypnotism," Shuuichi repeated, almost tasting the word as he considered it. "Well, I suppose… Who's the detective you work for, again?"

"Ah—Koenma?"

"Little Enma. As in the Shinto God of death?"

Botan faltered as she realized that this wasn't actually that good of an alias, though she rallied admirably. "Yes! Because he's never lost a criminal! Once he's on the case, it's death for you!"

Shuuichi nodded again. "Why little?"

"He's very short," Kuronue contributed. "He hates being called Koenma, really, but it's too accurate." Shuuichi gave him a very skeptical look, while Botan mouthed her thanks—then laughed nervously when the redhead turned back to her.

Shuuichi ignored her obvious nerves to hum thoughtfully. "How convenient!" he said finally, sitting back in his chair and smiling at Botan. "You see, I'm interested in criminology myself. If it's not too forward of me, would it be all right if I gave you a transcript to apply for an internship with your agency?"

"The only student internship is already taken by Yusuke, I'm sorry," Botan said. "But I can call you if something comes up! Would you like me to see you out?" She asked, bouncing to her feet. Kuronue made a mental note to suggest acting lessons as well as lying lessons: her eagerness to get Shuuichi out of the house was obvious to everyone.

Shuuichi didn't move, instead taking up his coffee cup from where it sat on the table, cradling it in both hands. "That's too bad," he said. "You see, I think I have some information that you and your employer might find extremely valuable."

Botan faltered. "O-oh?"

"Yes. You see, I'm quite certain those men weren't being driven by hypnotism, but instead a species of parasitic insect that gives its host extremely violent impulses, as well as increased physical strength." Shuuichi surveyed the effect of this sentence over the rim of his coffee cup, a mischievous light in those green eyes.

Silence. Complete and total silence in the kitchen. Kuronue almost drew blood he was biting his cheek so hard to stop himself from laughing. Shizuru lit a second cigarette from the remains of the first, expressionless beyond a faintly intrigued lift in her eyebrows. Kuwabara looked like he'd been hit in the chest with a two-by-four. Botan wavered on her feet, and sank back into her chair. "The _Makai_ insects?"

"Ah, so you are familiar with the species. Tell me, are there any lasting side effects?"

"Not… that we know of."

Kuwabara finally recovered enough to be indignant. "Wait, hold on! How do you know about those nasty little bugs? Were you working with those Saint Beasts? What exactly is going on?"

Botan clapped her hands and leveled an accusing finger in Shuuichi's face. "Yes! Yes, a very good question! Your story has got a few holes itself, mister!"

Shuuichi blinked, leaning back so he could see her finger without having to cross his eyes. "Of course it does. All lies do."

"Why, you—!"

Incapable of containing himself any longer, Kuronue almost dropped his mug he was laughing so hard. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Can we keep him?" he asked when he managed some level of coherency, "Please?"

"No! Humans aren't supposed to know!"

Shuuichi jumped on the slip. "So, you're not human?"

Botan swelled with fury. "Tell the truth now! What were you doing at the school yesterday?"

Shuuichi sighed, putting his coffee cup on the table again. "When I returned home from school yesterday, my mother attacked me with a knife. I defended myself and rendered her unconscious as gently as I knew how, but imagine my surprise when a two-inch long bug crawled out of her mouth." He leveled a look at Botan, green eyes deadly serious. "When I went back outside, there were dozens of them. I tried to track them to an origin, but their movements were too random. Soon enough, though, I noticed that those people they infected were moving towards a common goal—the middle school. At that point I heard a scream, and the rest you know."

"So… so you knew about the _Makai_ insects from the beginning," Botan said. "But how? You've only enough _reiki_ to keep you alive, you shouldn't have been able to see them, let alone make your way through the streets without being infected yourself!"

"Hey, that's right!" Kuwabara said, bending over to peer into Shuuichi's face. "I'm not feeling anything odd from you at all, just like a normal human."

"I'd like to know why you followed the bugs instead of staying inside," Kuronue chipped in.

Shuuichi sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in the first indication of discomfort he'd shown. "I don't know how I saw those things," he admitted. "It's one of the many questions I had hoped to find an answer to today… I chased the insects in the hopes of getting a few of those questions answered. Admittedly, meeting you was more than I expected, Botan- _san_."

"Eh? M-me?" Botan asked, pointing to herself. "What do you mean?"

"I'm very certain you can answer my most important question." His fingers tapped along the edge of the table, an uncertain movement that screamed discomfort to Kuronue, even as his face remained composed. "It's not that I'm ungrateful, of course, but… Two weeks ago, the night of the full moon. Why did my mother survive, when you stood in the room ready to take her away?"

"Full moon?" Kuronue repeated, startled by the timing.

Botan yelped. "You _saw_ me? But—but not even Kuwabara could see me, and he has an extremely high natural sixth sense!"

"Will someone please tell me what you're talking about?" Kuwabara himself demanded.

"It's simple," Botan said. "You know I'm a _shinigami_ for Koenma- _sama_ and take the souls of the dead to him to be judged, yes?" She didn't wait for an answer, though from the way Kuwabara suddenly paled, he hadn't known that. "Well, even though I'm now in charge of Yusuke as the spirit detective's assistant, I'm still expected to pick up souls occasionally when I happen to be in their jurisdiction, and that happened just a couple of weeks ago. With everything that was going on with Kuroji and the Forlorn Hope and Yusuke pulling stupid stunts and almost dying again, I was almost late!" Shuuichi watched her without comment. Botan must have recognized something of his tension and downright fear, though, because she smiled at him with more honest sympathy than Kuronue would have expected, given Shuuichi's absolute determination to get answers from her. "But there's no need to worry, Shuuichi- _kun_. I don't understand it myself, in all honesty, but your mother's death date has been shifted back by several years."

"Then… the cancer…?"

"Gone!" Botan assured him cheerfully. "And I don't think it will be coming back! But I really can't tell you any more, or I'll be in even more trouble with—oh no! Koenma- _sama_!"

"Yeah," Kuronue said, crossing his arms. "Somehow I doubt he'll be happy with you blabbing so many secrets to a human."

"Well—well, at least I haven't mentioned _Reikai_ , yet?" Shuuichi cleared his throat, and she giggled. "Um, just… forget you heard that."

"I won't forget, but I won't ask," Shuuichi said. "After all… you reassured me about my mother, when you had no need to and I hadn't asked. Thank you." He took a deep breath. "I do have one more question, though."

"Only one?" Kuronue teased. "Considering how determined you were, I'd have thought you had a whole book of them." Shuuichi shot him a green-eyed glare, but he'd seen scarier and just grinned.

"Well, it would have been two, but you don't seem to understand why I'm capable of seeing these things, so there'd be no point in asking, would there?" he said with a shrug, before raising his chin and looking at Shizuru, Kuwabara, and Botan in turn. "What can I do to fight whatever is out there?"

"I… Are you serious?" Botan asked weakly.

"Perfectly so," Shuuichi said. "Even if I only have a little— _reiki_ , you said? I will train it until it is strong enough. I will learn as much as I can."

Kuronue sighed, cutting through the silence Shuuichi's vow had left behind. "Why?" he asked. "When most humans come face to face with something they consider incomprehensible, they think of every excuse they can to avoid looking at it dead on, let alone throwing themselves into a fight they can't win. Yusuke's a delinquent, but not a bad kid at heart, and he hates seeing people bullied. Kuwabara's got a serious honor code and do-gooder complex. You in the same boat?

"I notice you don't mention yourself, Kuroji," Botan grumbled.

"Community service in lieu of time served," Kuronue shot back with a crooked grin. "I definitely don't count. So, come on, Minamino. Why are you so determined to tangle yourself up in this?"

Shuuichi shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. His hands had curled tightly around his coffee mug. "Nothing so noble as that. But… this city is mine. I was born in the same hospital my mother almost died in. I attend school five blocks from this house. I live here, as do my mother and the few people I call friends. Yesterday, millions of yen worth of damage was done to downtown, three people died, fifteen more were hospitalized, and a school was besieged. Worst of all, my mother attacked me, and I had to render her unconscious when she is still recovering from what once was a terminal illness. I will be damned before I let something like that happen again. This city is _mine_ , and no one else will have it, be they human or not."

Kuronue buried his face in his hands and laughed. Shuuichi made it sound like a territory dispute—but that's really what it was, wasn't it? _Youkai_ wanting in to set up new homes, _ningen_ wanting to stay safe in their own homes… "Clever and stubborn—it's the worst combination, I swear!" he said, wiping tears away from his eyes. "We're keeping him, and I don't think he's giving us much of a choice in it. You've been overruled, Botan."

"What—but we can't!"

"You let me tag along on that little jaunt to _Makai_ ," Kuwabara said. "What's wrong with a man wanting to protect what's his?"

"Koenma- _sama_ is going to kill me…" Botan moaned.

"Then you'll help me learn?" Shuuichi asked.

Botan sighed. "Well…" She looked at him, and crossed her arms. "We'll see what Koenma- _sama_ says. But if he agrees, we'll probably let you work with Kuwabara- _kun_ for a while."

"Who, me?" Kuwabara asked, looking about as startled as Kuronue felt. "Wouldn't Urameshi be better? He's loads stronger than I am! But don't tell him I said that."

"Yes, but he's unconscious right now, and I don't think he'd make nearly as good a teacher!" Botan said.

"Personally I'm not sure either of them would be a good teacher," Kuronue pointed out under his breath.

"Hush, you. Besides, Kuwabara- _kun_ , Yusuke might be naturally powerful and abnormally lucky, but he can be very sloppy sometimes. For someone with an almost negligible amount of _reiki_ , efficiency is going to be extremely important!"

"Yeah!" Kuwabara agreed, throwing one fist into the air. "Did you hear that, Shuuichi? You've got the great Kuwabara as a teacher! Come on!" He pulled the shorter redhead up by one arm and hauled him out of the kitchen.

"Wait, Kuwabara- _kun_ —I said if! If Koenma- _sama_ agrees! Come back here!"

Kuronue finished off the last of his coffee (disgustingly cold by now, blech, but waste not) and stood, wandering out after the new teacher and student. Minamino Shuuichi might be cleverer than most humans, but he didn't have a clue what he was getting into with Kuwabara, and Kuronue was not passing up the opportunity to watch someone that self-assured fall on his face.

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _Reikai:_ Spirit Realm, Spirit World, Spirit Plane. Where Botan and Koenma live and work, and where _ningen_ souls are sent to be judged.

 _youkai:_ most commonly translated as 'demon,' occasionally called 'spirits' or 'apparitions.' They are non-human beings that vary in power and morality, and are often in conflict with _Reikai._ Almost all of the characters Yusuke fights in the series are _youkai._

 _jagan:_ literally, "evil eye." The third eye on Hiei's forehead which he conceals beneath a ward.

 _youki:_ "demon energy."

 _ki:_ "energy" or "aura."

 _Makai:_ Demon Realm, Demon World, Demon Plane. A dimension which runs parallel to our own, inhabited by beings called _youkai._

 _Ningenkai:_ Human Realm, Human World, Human Plane. Real world, Earth.

 _-san:_ an honorific attached to the name of someone you don't know well, or is of superior social standing. Rough English equivalent would be "Mr." or "Ms."

 _-chan:_ an honorific used to address a child or a girl you are familiar with. There's not really an English equivalent, but it's often translated as "little" in anime.

 _-sama:_ an honorific used to respectfully address those of considerable social superiority. Rough English equivalent would be "Lord" or "Lady." As Koenma is technically a prince, his employees (those that respect him) refer to him as "Koenma- _sama."_

 _shinigami:_ literally "death god." Refers to Botan and her colleagues, those girls who guide the souls of the recently deceased to _Reikai_ to be judged.

 _kusarigama:_ A long-handled scythe attached to a chain. Kuronue's weapons are modified versions of these, with a shorter handle and wider, more sharply curved blade.

 _-kun:_ an honorific used to address a boy or young man you are friendly with. Sort of like "- _chan,_ " except for boys. There's not really an English equivalent.

 _aikido:_ "way of harmonious spirit"; style of Japanese martial art that involves a great many throws, joint locks, and holds, as well as some training in knives, wooden swords, and short staves. Some students train in traditional short _kimono_ and _hakama_ (old, traditional Japanese clothing consisting of a wrap around shirt and wide, pleated trousers: visually, Kenshin in _Rurouni_ _Kenshin_ dresses this way as does Yahiko and Kaoru when she's fighting.) Training involves drills as well as free-form sparring against single and mulitple opponents. An aikido user will flow around an opponent's attack, redirecting their momentum and subduing them with a lock or a throw. The philosophy of the style emphasizes both the user's safety and the safety of their opponent. (Shuuichi is philosophically a very bad aikido student.)

 _shourin-ryuu:_ " _Shourin"_ translates as "pine"; " _r_ _yuu"_ as "style." _Shourin-ryuu_ is a style of karate which, like aikido, emphasizes fluidity of movement and the ability to evade and/or redirect an attack. _Shourin-ryuu_ balances both "soft" techniques (like joint locks and holds) and "hard" techniques (strikes and kicks). I _think_ there is some weapons training here as well, particularly using the long staff. Shourin-ryuu is one of the oldest styles of karate in existence, and one of the more popular.

 _bo:_ long staff, about five feet long or roughly the height of the wielder.

visual _kei_ :not so much a musical genre as a performance style, visual _kei_ bands usually involve dramatic outfits, unusual coloring, and androgynous boys. Influenced by glam rock, goth and cyberpunk styles. I'm probably misusing the term (I'm actually not that familiar with Japanese pop culture outside of anime), but Kuro's basically calling Shuuichi pretty and/or androgynous and suggesting that he could be an idol with how he looks.

 _reiki: "_ spirit energy;" the energy possessed by humans which can be formed into weapons (as Yusuke and Kuwabara do) or be channelled into healing (as Botan and Genkai do).

(final note: "ko" means little, and often pops up in names or nicknames. So, yes, Koenma literally means Little Enma, or Enma Jr. There's an absolutely fantastic YYH fic called "Nicknames" by Kaleyanne that gives one suggestion as to how he came about that nickname. It's on my favorites' list)

* * *

 **Notes on this chapter:**

And our two main characters meet. Yay! I am so much happier with the pacing in this fic, seriously. Pardon the super-quick summary of Saint Beasts: I didn't want to rehash the same fights again, but it was needed. I did deliberately choose to have Hiei fight Kurama's fight and Kuro fight Hiei's, though, because I don't just want Kuronue replacing Kurama on the team. He's _not_ Kurama, though they do share some traits. Just giving him Kurama's fights feels both lazy and out of character to me. So between that shift and giving you the chance to see how Kuro views the team and his situation, the summary ended up being needed.

Shuuichi's choice of martial arts is very, very deliberate. I have one or two interesting mental images of what prompted his mother to sign him up for the classes, but those are being filed away as plot bunnies for probable side-stories (there's three or four that I have right now, from various points in this AU, that will be written _after_ I finish the main story). I have taken some martial arts, but never the two mentioned here. Much of my knowledge comes from wikipedia, and I acknowledge it is cursory at best.

Next week's chapter might be late, as the next four require some serious editing. I hit on an idea while going to bed last night that I'd like to try and implement that requires adding scenes at the end of each one... Good news, it'll keep the longer chapters going (as of right now the next chapter is a bit over a thousand words, but that means more serious edits beyond tweaks of phrasing and checking for grammar.

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies!**

Thanks again to Unita and Tiakay for reviewing the last chapter.

 **Fox:** I'm glad to hear you think Kurama's characterization is still accurate! It's tricky, sometimes, keeping someone in character within the bounds of an AU; especially an AU where they're almost a different person. No, Kurama doesn't remember being Kurama (just yet, anyway). I'm glad to see a review from you, and that you like the way I write. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

 **Krys:** I love Kuro fics, too, and there really aren't enough of them. Understandable, but sad. I'm rather fond of this plot-bunny myself, and love to poke at Kurama and see what he does in various situations. I'm glad to hear you think the premise is original, too: my favorite fics tend to be those that take an old idea and do something new with it, and my own scribbles tend to emulate that. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

To all my readers, thank you for your continued support. As mentioned before, next week's chapter _may_ be late. We'll see.

See you all very soon!


	7. Lessons Learned

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Atychiphobia (org. Greek)_ : n. the fear of failure; the fear of not being good enough

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Lessons Learned**

* * *

 _In Which a Swordsman Takes a Student and Our Traveler Takes a Chance_

* * *

Kuwabara hated cars. Ever since Urameshi got creamed by one the entire world had been unsettled—and he should know, he was psychic. Urameshi came back because of a scheduling conflict, little old ladies were more badass than twenty Urameshis put together, _youkai_ used music to control mind eating insects, and Kuwabara had the nasty feeling that this was just the beginning. He'd jumped into the portal after Urameshi because—well, because Urameshi was his best friend, when he really stood back and considered mushy stuff like feelings, and there was no way he was letting the punk get wrapped up in _youkai_ and spirits and monsters when a few months ago he'd been about as spiritually aware as a rock. More importantly, it had felt like the right thing to do. Not right as in right versus wrong (though that too—mind eating insects were definitely wrong in Kuwabara Kazuma's book), but right as in _two plus two equals four._

Whatever was going on wasn't going to stop, and Kuwabara was going to end up involved one way or another. As far as he was concerned, better to jump head first than to get dragged under.

And now the latest evidence the world had turned upside down was standing in his backyard watching him with hands folded behind his back in the picture of patience. Kuwabara had followed enough of the conversation inside to know the deceptively harmless looking teenager in front of him was light-years smarter than him. Maybe even a genius. And geniuses did not ask the local punks for help learning something new.

"This is ten different kinds of weird," Kuwabara said to himself.

"Indeed," Minamino agreed. He hooked one ankle behind the other and folded to sit on the ground.

Kuwabara joined him with much less grace, leaning his chin on his palms. "You're really serious about learning how to take care of your mom?"

"Deathly so."

"Wow… She must mean a lot to you, huh?"

Minamino nodded once, and Kuwabara got the feeling he didn't really want to talk about that anymore. Made sense. He'd said before that his mom had been really sick, and that she'd been one of the people to get possessed by those nasty things yesterday. Kuwabara tried to imagine how he'd feel to see someone he knew like that, and couldn't come up with anything beyond _really bad._ He didn't really know where Kuroji and Botan got off wondering why this kid wanted to help out—wouldn't anyone, after something like that?

"May I ask you something, Kuwabara- _sensei_?" Minamino asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Oh, God, don't do that!" Kuwabara yelped. "Just… Just call me Kuwabara, okay? I know I'm supposed to be helping you out, dude, but I'm really no one's _sensei_."

Minamino smiled like he had a secret, but Kuwabara was beginning to suspect that's what his normal smile looked like. "Very well, Kuwabara- _kun_. May I ask you a question, though?"

Kuwabara sighed, but gave up trying to get him to leave the manners alone. "Yeah, okay, Minamino- _kun_."

"Please, as I told Botan- _san,_ Shuuichi is fine." Minamino flashed him a smile, and changed the subject. "Botan- _san_ said you had an abnormally strong sixth sense. Exactly what does that entail?"

"Well, I can usually tell when something weird is going on. Like if there's a ghost hanging around, I can feel it, even if I can't see or hear it. And I'm really, really good at rock-paper-scissors! And yesterday in Maze Castle, I could navigate our group around the booby traps, because I could feel where danger was."

Mina—er, Shuuichi nodded. "You also said I felt like a normal human… What was your comparison?"

"Urameshi's gotten some really neat abilities since he came back from the dead," Kuwabara explained. "He feels a lot more dangerous, but he's still totally human. I knew Botan wasn't human, even if I didn't know she was a _shinigami_ until today. And I know Kuroji's _youkai_."

"Kuroji is—?" He turned, looking at the back porch where Kuroji was watching the impulsive training session turned conversation. Botan had disappeared off to _Reikai_ to try and smooth things over with Koenma, but the _youkai_ had decided to stick around and watch. He lifted one hand and waved at them. "Can he hear us?"

"Yeah, probably," Kuwabara said. "He said he was _koumori_ yesterday, and bats can hear really good, right?" Kuroji waved again, settling down in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. Even from here Kuwabara could see the slightest bit of fang in his grin. "He's not really a bad sort, for a _youkai_. Nothing like the other one…"

"Other one? Wait, no, not right now," Shuuichi waved his own question away with clear reluctance. "I was thinking about your sixth sense. It sounds very useful in a fight, but it doesn't sound like much of a weapon…"

"Oh, my sixth sense isn't my weapon!" Kuwabara said cheerfully. "Heck, Shizuru's got a stronger sixth sense than I do, but I can do something really cool that she can't!" He jumped to his feet again and took a few steps away, and concentrated on his hand, pulling the little mental twist he'd figured out. With a _zing_ of energy, an orange, shimmering blade erupted from his hand.

Shuuichi stared. Kuwabara couldn't help but be a bit smug; Shuuichi seemed the sort to not be surprised by anything, but he'd just made his jaw drop. Well, kind of. "That's… That's astounding," he said after a moment, and stood, bending to look at the sword more closely. "You grip it almost like you would a physical sword, but… May I?" He asked. Kuwabara shrugged, not really sure what he was asking permission to do, but held up the sword so he could get a better look. "Is this pure energy, then? This _reiki_ that Botan- _san_ mentioned?"

"Yep! This is my Spirit Sword. Urameshi has the Spirit Gun—he fires a blast of _reiki_ from his fingertip."

"Melee and ranged attacks," Shuuichi said, almost to himself, as he turned Kuwabara's arm this way and that to study the blade. "So _reiki_ is highly adaptable. Do you believe you could fire blasts in the same way?"

"Don't know, I've never tried. This feels better, anyway."

Shuuichi hummed again, and let go of his arm. "I wonder if the form of a spirit weapon reflects upon the user," he said, tapping his lips with one thumb. "I suppose that theory will have to wait until I meet this Urameshi Yusuke, or until I have learned to make a weapon of my own." He tilted his head, studying Kuwabara. "Assuming I'm right, and that this method of _reiki_ is possible to train and learn?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm stronger than I was, which means that I've gotten more energy, right? So maybe you can, too."

Shuuichi smiled at him. "You are a very optimistic person."

"What's wrong with that?" Kuwabara demanded and raised a fist into the air. "If you think you're going to lose, then you will lose! If you think you're going to win, then any loss is just temporary!" He stopped, rounding on his student. "Stop laughing at me!"

"No, no!" Shuuichi waved his hands, though he was still laughing—and not the dry, polite laugh he'd used once or twice when he was talking with Botan, but something a little bit more honest. "I'm sorry if I offended! I only meant that you are very cheerful. It's not a bad thing."

Kuwabara sighed, and plopped onto the ground again. "Well, fine then."

Shuuichi sat as well, propping his chin on one hand. "So, how does one increase their _reiki_?" he asked, deftly steering them back on track.

"It's boring, but… I asked Genkai when she was fixing up my broken arms—long story, I'll tell you later," he added before Shuuichi could ask. "Anyway, she said the best thing to do is meditation and visualization." Kuwabara crossed his legs and straightened his back, holding both hands in front of him, palms facing his stomach. "When you breathe in, your _ki_ goes up, and when you breathe out, it goes down," he explained, raising his hands from his stomach to his chest, then down again to demonstrate. "So meditation's mostly to just start paying attention to it. Once you know it's there, you can start moving it around. I push my _ki_ to my hand and focus it outside my body to create my sword." Kuwabara opened his eyes, having closed them at some point during the explanation, to see Shuuichi watching him intently, like a fox stalking a bird. "Um. Why're you staring at me like that?"

He blinked, brows tugging down into a slight frown, though his lips never moved. "I'm not staring. I'm listening. And thinking," he allowed, settling back, his fingers drumming against his leg. "Meditation and visualization… It's certainly worth a try. Will you sit with me for a few minutes? Your sixth sense might be able to tell if I'm shifting my _reiki_ in any significant way."

"Sure thing!" Kuwabara agreed, grinning. The whole giving-lessons thing would get him out of his chores for a while, at least. Shuuichi was a pretty cool guy and actually listened to him, even if he was kind of scary with the way his eyes went all flat when he was thinking too much… Maybe later, after Urameshi woke up and Shuuichi trained up a bit, he could help them out? It would be kind of nice to have another human on the team. And his student joining up would definitely show that evil pipsqueak that he could so contribute…

* * *

Two in the morning was a little early to close up shop, but Kuronue had had a stressful last few days and was tired, and when you owned the place you could kick anyone out who you damn well pleased without having to justify yourself. He debated the merits of a cup of coffee before bed with himself; caffeine right before trying to sleep was never a good idea, but he'd never been known for making good choices. And tea was just… No. He refused. Tea and Kuronue were two things that did not mix except under fox-shaped duress when he was sick.

That was when the toddler appeared floating mid-air in front of him. Koenma promptly got a cup of coffee thrown in his face before Kuronue realized he'd just scalded his boss and that maybe, instead of cursing, he should make himself apologize before he ended up in a _Reikai_ prison cell.

What actually came out was "What the hell do you want now?"

Koenma narrowed his eyes at the disrespect, but as his shirt was dripping coffee and his skin was pink and blotchy because of the heat, so it really wasn't as impressive as the godling hoped. Kuronue grabbed a hand towel and soaked it in water, offering it as an apology. "Thank you," the princeling said archly. "I've a favor to ask you."

Kuronue groaned. "No."

"I wouldn't be so quick to turn me down, Kuroji," Koenma said, floating toward his desk chair and sitting in it.

"Still no. Get your actual detective to do it, not the _youkai_ you press ganged into this job."

"This arrangement was your idea, I might remind you," Koenma said, rubbing at the "Jr." emblazoned on his forehead again. "As for Yusuke, he cannot do this. He lacks the necessary skill."

Kuronue snorted. "Flattery doesn't suit you."

"It's not flattery, it's fact. Or did I not add a master thief with prodigious stealth and subtlety to this team?" Kuronue winced. Betrayed by his own words. "I have an incentive."

"Incentive... Is that what they're calling a bribe these days?" He grumbled, but finally sat down on his bed. "What's this oh-so-subtle mission, then?"

There was silence but for the pacifier-sucking for a few seconds. "I've found a problem with the filing system."

"I am many, many things, Koenma, but I am not a damn librarian," Kuronue snapped, rubbing at his temples in an attempt to battle the growing headache. Gods, sleep deprivation made intrigue so much harder… Unless Koenma knew he was being deceived and showed up at two-a-fucking-m on purpose for that exact reason. Whoo boy.

Koenma crossed his arms, staring impassively at Kuronue. " _Koumori_ Kuroji, I am making a very conscious choice to trust you, and I hope that you will not prove that trust misplaced," he said quietly, in the serious sort of tone Kuronue would have expected from someone much older. He winced—sometimes it was way too easy to forget that Koenma was, in fact, a god, however tiny he was. "Are you listening?"

"Yes."

" _Reikai_ keeps exhaustive records on every single life within our jurisdiction. Every action, every decision, is written down in the individual's record from the day they are born until the day they die. It would be impossible to comprehend this record under normal circumstances, so we also have files that act as an index of sorts: a highlights reel skimmed off the top, with the most pivotal moments of the person's life."

Kuronue nodded slowly, and didn't bother trying to imagine the overwhelming amount of paper it would take. "Magic, I suppose?"

"A very complex, ancient, and _effective_ spell," Koenma agreed. "Honestly, it's astounding there aren't more mix-ups like Yusuke. Luckily the tendency seems to be for people to die late rather than early, and the system allows that far more easily."

"Okay, so what does any of this have to do with me?"

Koenma took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out slowly. "You remember what I told you about the _Youko_ Kurama?"

Kuronue forced himself not to tense, even though every ounce of him wanted to hit something. If Koenma told him Kurama wasn't actually alive… "You told me that you'd checked the records of processed souls, and he wasn't listed. You _said_ he's still alive."

"His soul was never processed, so yes, he is still alive in some way," Koenma agreed, raising his hands in a placating, _calm down_ gesture. "However, his record was closed. _Reikai_ declared him dead. It was our mistake. I'll freely admit it. I've… quietly reopened the file."

Kuronue nodded, biting at the end of his thumb. "Okay. So it, what, started recording again?"

"It should have. It didn't."

"Say _what_?"

Koenma frowned, clearly aggravated. "It didn't start recording again. I know it should have; there is precedent for it. But… nothing. It remains unchanged, and no, before you ask, I _didn't_ mess up reopening it."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Right now, there's nothing you _can_ do about it," Koenma said with a sigh. "I just thought you should be warned. If the _Youko_ Kurama has figured out a way around _Reikai_ intelligence, he's far more dangerous than we expected… or in far more trouble."

Something in Kuronue's chest went very cold. It might have been his heart. "Got it. Thanks," he said, forcing the words past the tight knot of panic in his chest. _Hells, Kurama. Please, please, please be okay. All the gods in heaven,_ please _be okay. If I found out you were alive too late, I'd..._

"Here," Koenma said, flicking his fingers in a pattern that blurred the air around his hand. An unremarkable-looking manila folder appeared, and another gesture sent it soaring towards Kuronue. "The incentive I mentioned," he finished, brown eyes inscrutable. "It's a copy of the file, mind, not the full record, but it should still give you an edge, when you finally find him."

Kuronue looked down at the folder to see _Youko Kurama_ written neatly along the tab. He wet his lips and nodded. "You said there was a favor, too?" he said when he thought his voice might not crack.

"You remember Minamino Shuuichi?"

Kuronue's mouth twisted up into a wry half-smile. "Yeah, I figured he'd be making you a bit nervous. Questions tend to."

"It's… a bit more than that," Koenma said as though the admission pained him. "I want you to keep an eye on him. Unobtrusively. Unofficially."

"Okay, I know pointed questions make you lot nervous, but he's still just some teenaged human," Kuronue pointed out. "Completely normal. Zilch _reiki_." And hadn't that driven him crazy that afternoon. Kuronue almost pitied Kuwabara. After a solid hour of absolutely no progress, Shuuichi had looked about ready to break something. He clearly wasn't used to not picking whatever skill up quickly, though he'd at least had the maturity to walk away before he truly lost his temper. "Not the sort of person you set a _youkai_ on for surveillance purposes. So, what aren't you telling me?"

Koenma sighed, and folded his fingers together. "The spiritual difference between miscarriages and stillborns is small, but significant," he said instead of answering. "At conception, a small amount of _reiki_ is given to the fetus to keep it alive until a soul can be assigned from _Reikai._ If a soul doesn't 'take,' doesn't stick to the unborn child for whatever reason, then the babe is stillborn. If a soul is never sent in the first place, then the mother miscarries."

"Interesting, but…?"

"According to our records, Minamino Shiori miscarried fifteen years ago. She conceived, but _Reikai_ never assigned the child a soul." The godling tilted his head so that he was looking directly into Kuronue's eyes. "Whatever Minamino Shuuichi is—whoever he is—he is not just some teenaged human. He has absolutely no record. None. I need you to keep an eye on him because as far as _Reikai_ is concerned, Minamino Shuuichi doesn't exist."

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _youkai:_ often translated as "demon," sometimes translated as "monster" or "apparition." An intelligent, amoral, and inhuman species of beings that inhabit a dimension parallel to our own. Most of the villains Yusuke fights in the show are _youkai._

 _-san:_ an honorific added to the name of somone whom you do not know very well, or a respectful honorific added to the name of someone who is of a higher social status than yours. A rough English equivalent is "Mr." or "Ms."

 _-sensei:_ a respectful honorific added to the names of teachers, doctors, professors, etc. Those who are learned or passing knowledge on to another.

 _-kun:_ an honorific added to the name of a boy you are on familiar terms with. Closer than 'san,' but not as close as not using an honorific at all.

 _shinigami:_ literally "death god." Used to describe Botan and her colleagues, the girls who guide souls from this world to their judgement in the next.

 _koumori:_ literally "bat." Here used to specifically describe bat youkai, i.e. Kuronue/Kuroji.

 _reiki:_ "spirit energy," the energy used by humans for both attacking and healing. Yusuke, Kuwabara, Botan, and Genkai all use spirit energy; the former as weapons, the latter to heal. (Though of course Genkai is an extremely capable fighter as well.)

 _Reikai:_ Spirit World, Spirit Realm, Spirit Plane. The dimension where Koenma live and work, involved in the processing and judgement of the souls of the dead.

 _youko:_ spirit fox

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

So I thought that finishing/fine-tuning this chapter would take a lot longer than it did, so I psyched myself out about not getting it up on Monday like I have been... Not as long as I hoped it would be, but still double what it originally was.

Not a lot to say about this chapter, aside from how pleased I am with the whole 'how _Reikai_ operates" thing, which I hope isn't as info-dump-y as it feels, or was at least somewhat interesting to read.

Also poor Kuwabara. Dealing with extremely motivated, extremely frustrated, and perfectionist Shuuichi. Wish him luck, he'll need it. I actually really like how I've written Kuwabara. I wasn't very fond of him in high school, but that was a horrible, horrible mistake. He's not exactly my favorite character, but he's _wonderful._ He just tries so hard and is just... Oh, darling. He's such a sweetheart. And kind of a horrible punk. Like he's so bad at being the bad guy, it's hilarious. Also, side note, but I _love_ how Kuwabara and Hiei are the two "swordsmen" in the group, and how they're actually pretty similar if you really pause and think about it (admittedly I'm thinking mostly about their own honor codes)... and they hate each other. Of course.

Side note, but I _do not remember_ Kuwabara/Kurama being a very popular pairing (in fact, I don't think it was a pairing at all) six years ago, but now I've found like, at least half a dozen _really really good_ fics of them? It's very strange and weirdly cute? Like, obvs. Hiei/Kurama is still the biggest pairing (and I still don't ship it and I still don't understand why I don't ship it?), but...?

I don't know. I really don't.

Erm. This wasn't supposed to get that ramble-y... Whoops. Sorry, everyone.

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies!**

 **Fox:** "See the shiny. Take the shiny." was one of my friend's favorite lines, too, so I'm glad it made you smile! Reiki vs. Youki will be explored a bit the chapter after the next, so please be patient. As for Kuronue and Shuuichi... well. Spoilers.

 **Llonella** : (chapters 3 and 6): Yeah, chapter three was meant to set up a few plot threads that will weave through later chapters. I'm fond of chapter six, because Kuro is fantastic and I _adore_ how Shuuichi bounces off everyone. It's so much fun to write dialogue between him and Kuronue, so there will be lots of back-and-forth between them in later chapters.

 **Guest:** (chapters 4 and 5): I suspect you're Llonella without having remembered to put a name in, but on the off chance you're not, sorry, and I'm answering it in a separate bit. I figure the pacifier is there, and super-charged with _reiki_ or not, he's bound to have some sort of nervous habit with it. For chapter five... I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I really love writing Shuuichi. I like that you describe him as a 'hero,' because I think he'd be a little skeptical about that. I told someone recently that Shuuichi is only moral as long as it suits him to be, which I think is very true. Though yes, he is very much a momma's boy and there is really nothing he can do about that.

 **Nameless:** I have to admit I find it amusing that I update only a few hours after you leave a review saying how impatient you are for the next chapter... unfortunately, you'll now have to wait another week for the next update, so I'll have to ask for your patience and pardon. I hope you continue to love my story, and thank you so much for your review!

Thanks again to Unita for reviewing this last chapter.

Also, y'all are going to make me cry. Seven reviews in the last week, _seven,_ and six of them yesterday/today. Like, seriously? I love you all SO MUCH, and I swear it was that motivation that made me get this chapter out so much more quickly than expected.

Again, though, next week's chapter requires even heavier edits than this one, so please be patient with me if it actually is late.


	8. Awaken

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Appetence (org. French)_ : n. an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Awaken**

* * *

 _In Which Our Hero Gains an Ally and Our Traveler Gains a Companion_

* * *

It took a long time for Yusuke to even realize he was waking up. His first coherent thought was _If every mission is going to put me in a sickbed, I'm going to start demanding hazard pay._ His second thought was a confusing, panicked jumble best summarized by _Keiko!_

He shot up in bed, ignoring the pain that shot across his nerves and the full-body ache in favor of finding out exactly what had happened. Except the room wasn't his, and that threw Yusuke off long enough he had to pause. Two redheads leaned over the nearby desk, one of which he'd recognize anywhere.

"No, look, you can pull a negative out of the equation, see? And if it's negative…"

"It points down!" Kuwabara finished, furiously scribbling something on a sheet of paper. "Why can't my actual teachers explain things like this?"

"What the hell?" Yusuke asked. Maybe he did actually die again, because Kuwabara studying had to be part of some bizarre dream.

Kuwabara spun around on his chair to grin at him. "Oh, hey! Urameshi, you're finally awake! Have a nice long nap, huh?" He laughed, tossing the pencil onto his desk. "You're in my room—you've been asleep for three days! Don't worry about your mom, I told her you were staying at my place for a while."

"Three—" He finally placed the second redhead. "Wait, I know you! You were helping out Keiko and Botan!" And hadn't watching that fight on the big screen been nerve-wracking as all hells. Keiko had been fighting for her life, had maybe even—no.

He smiled and offered a short bow. "Minamino Shuuichi. And you are Urameshi Yusuke, Detective of _Reikai_."

Yusuke tensed. "How d'you know that? Are you some sort of _youkai_ , too, because I'll tell you, after Suzaku—"

"Not at all," Shuuichi assured him. "I merely questioned Botan- _san_ afterwards, and convinced her to tell me everything."

"Botan? Then she's all right at least… Clearly you're fine. What about Keiko?"

"Guess what, though!" Kuwabara interrupted, leaning forward and grinning so widely that Yusuke was certain he was hiding something. "They've closed the school down for a week! Iwamoto's being investigated by the police and is going to have to go to the hospital. Shuuichi cracked two ribs!"

"It is not nearly as impressive as he makes it sound," Shuuichi said, picking up a piece of paper from the desk. "Incidentally, Kuwabara- _kun_ , you've mixed your terms here."

"Never mind that, tell me what happened to Keiko!" Yusuke demanded. The pair of them exchanged a long look over his head. He lunged forward, almost fell on his face, but successfully seized the collar of Shuuichi's neat shirt. "Minamino, if you got her killed, I swear by all that's holy I will punch your pretty-boy face in—"

"Now, Yusuke, is that any sort of first impression?" Botan asked cheerfully from the open doorway. He spun without letting go, dragging Shuuichi along behind him, only to see Botan and Keiko both standing there, perfectly safe. "Wha—but—"

"Kuwabara's idea!" Shuuichi said quickly, pushing his slackened grip away. "Though I did think he was going a bit far…"

"What? Minamino, you liar! You agreed to it!"

Whoever's idea it was, Yusuke was more than happy to switch to his usual victim. It was astounding how often beating on Kuwabara made him feel better. By the time he stopped, he was almost cheerful. "I'm really glad to see you two are all right!"

Yeah, they were definitely all right. Aside from not even having any bumps or scrapes to share between the pair of them, Keiko was glaring at him more fiercely than any of the _youkai_ he'd yet faced. Oh, boy. Survive an excursion into _Makai_ , only to be slaughtered by a pissed off girl? Story of his life.

It took an hour or so for Yusuke to be caught up on all the details of what had happened in the last three days. He almost laughed himself into unconsciousness again when he found out Kuwabara was now _teaching_ Shuuichi about _reiki_ in exchange for algebra help, and that the deceptively innocent looking redhead had basically tricked Botan into telling him everything that had been going on. Still, he had to face the music eventually, and so he offered to walk Keiko home.

It went better than he had expected. Which was to say, Keiko now knew exactly what he had been up to since his resurrection and had demanded to be told whenever he was on a mission in the future. That, though, was a headache for a later date. Kuwabara had told Mom not to expect him back for another few days, so she'd probably gone another binge. As far as Yusuke was concerned, that meant Kuwabara had volunteered to put him up for a while.

When he got back, Kuwabara and Shuuichi were sitting in the backyard, legs crossed and eyes closed. Yusuke took one look at them and turned on his heel to go bother Shizuru. This was unsuccessful, and Yusuke ended up being roped into helping with dinner, much to Kuwabara's glee when they came back inside half an hour later.

"Shut up! Just because you burn everything you put on the stove doesn't mean we all do!" Yusuke yelled, waving a fish-y spatula in Kuwabara's direction. This was not intimidating, of course, but hey, he tried.

"Cooking is a valuable skill if one wishes to be independent," Shuuichi put in. "Shizuru-san, do you need any more help?"

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked, putting her current cigarette out in the ashtray.

Shuuichi wrinkled his nose slightly. "I would like to, if it's not an imposition."

Shizuru rolled her eyes. "If it was, I'd have kicked you out hours ago. You're actually making Kazuma study."

"Sis!" Kuwabara protested, but didn't add anything more. He glanced at Shuuichi. "Will your mom be okay with it, then?"

"Oh, yes," Shuuichi said with a fond smile—the first honest one Yusuke had seen from him. "She has a date tonight with Hatanaka- _san_ , so as long as I'm home before ten or so she won't even know I was gone."

Huh. Okay. Yusuke shrugged, honestly not sure what to make of the other teen. He wasn't exactly one to mix with respectable people, and Shuuichi radiated the sort of clean-cut propriety that under normal circumstances twigged Yusuke's irritation like little else. Except… Well. Except he was _here_. And he was respectful with Shizuru and patient with Kuwabara and he didn't look down his nose at their rundown apartment, but he talked casually about lying to his mom and had manipulated Botan. Not to mention the downright _viciousness_ he'd fought those insects with at the school. Minamino Shuuichi had a definite not-so-nice streak, however well he hid it behind charm and innocence. Not that that was a problem. Honestly, it made Yusuke like him a bit more. Benefits of being a punk, he supposed. People who weren't at least a little bit violent weren't as trustworthy as those that were.

By the time dinner was done (Kuwabara had been forced into dishwashing duty by his sister, again), Yusuke had decided that Shuuichi was (going to be) a friend and that he _seriously_ needed to lighten up. With that idea in mind, Yusuke pushed back his chair, stretched, and said, "Oi, Shuuichi. Fight me."

Both red eyebrows leapt up. "Beg pardon?"

"Fight me!" Yusuke repeated. "I've been stuck in bed unconscious for three days and I'm itching for a good brawl. Outside, come on, come on!"

"Ah," Shuuichi said, looking somewhere between amused and bemused, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have my pretty-boy face punched in." Kuwabara stifled a snort of laughter from the sink, and was ignored.

Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Okay, first, that _was_ a dick move." Shuuichi shrugged agreement. "Second, if I was actually mad about it, I wouldn't be asking you to fight me, I'd just punch you. I'm after a friendly fight. Sparring or whatever you call it."

"Point taken," Shuuichi said with a smile. "Still, Urameshi- _kun_ —"

"Uh-uh. _Yusuke_. And don't you dare add a - _kun_ to that, Shuuichi."

He hesitated. "Yusuke, then. As I was going to say, Yusuke, I'd still rather not fight you right now. I try not to commit to battles I know I can't win."

Yusuke sighed, and plopped back down in his chair. "Aw, come on, I saw bits of that fight against the insects and I know you're good. If you're going to lie, come up with a better one."

Shuuichi shook his head. "I'm not lying. Even Meiou has heard of Urameshi Yusuke, and your considerable skill has only been enhanced by your training with _reiki_. I wouldn't object to a spar, really, but our styles are diametrically opposed: you are very street, while I am very not. A spar would be a mess, especially now when you are still injured and I am distracted. So, rain check?"

"You're the only person I know who would _schedule_ a damn brawl," Yusuke grumbled, slumping forward to lean his chin on crossed arms.

"Don't tournaments have schedules?" Shuuichi asked, and laughed when Yusuke flipped him off without even looking up. "If you're bored, I have a suggestion."

"Swear to God, Shuuichi, if the next word out of your mouth is _homework…_ "

"Actually, Kuwabara- _kun_ has said you play video games?"

Yusuke looked up. " _You_ play video games?"

Shuuichi shrugged. "I'm not just a nerd, you know. My mother gave me a DS my last birthday, and Hatanaka- _san_ was kind enough to give me some games to go with it."

"Yeah?" Yusuke straightened. "What do you play?"

"Well, I've always liked puzzles, so _Professor Layton_ is a favorite. I've played through _Pokemon Pearl_ a couple of times, too. What sort of games do you like?"

"Eh, I usually go in for FPS or whatever else lets you blow shit up," Yusuke admitted. "But I've got a kickass team in _Pearl_. We should totally battle!"

"Do you have your DS with you?" Shuuichi asked, sounding genuinely interested.

Yusuke paused. "Dammit!"

"Bro has a PS2," Shizuru called from the living room. "If you have to pound each other into the ground somehow, you could use that."

"Yes!" Yusuke practically threw himself up the stairs. "Come on, Shuuichi, I know he has at least one fighting game."

"If you gave it back after you borrowed it!" Kuwabara said. "Wait for me, Urameshi, it's my game, I want in on this!"

Yusuke could hear Shuuichi promising to wait in the kitchen, before the older teen followed much more calmly. "He should be done by the time you finish setting up," Shuuichi explained as he joined him. "Do you mind if I…?" he gestured towards Kuwabara's stack of games.

"Knock yourself out, dude," Yusuke said, having already snatched _Street Fighter_ from the stack and busily plugging in cords.

"Oh, he has _Silent Hill 2…_ I've been dying to play that," Shuuichi said after a few minutes. Yusuke glanced over his shoulder with a grin. Shuuichi noticed the look and rolled his eyes. "Mother doesn't approve. It's too violent, apparently. I hadn't managed to find a PS2 or a copy of the game before tonight."

"Right, right. Well, we can do that after I beat you at a few rounds of this," he said, waving the case. "Come on, come on! Get down here and grab a controller."

Shuuichi grinned—actually grinned, wide and challenging and like a normal teenage boy—and grabbed for the controller in Yusuke's hand. "Best three out of five?"

"You're on!"

* * *

Minamino Shuuichi's life was _boring,_ and it was driving Kuronue crazy _._ He did very little that wasn't related to either his school or his mother. He studied outside or at his desk, belonged to the science club, and took every small mishap with a smile and a shrug. Somewhat unsurprisingly, he had also received two love letters in the three days Kuronue had been following him, which he opened, read, and proceeded to gently reject.

It made the innate oddness of showing up at the Kuwabaras' that much more noticeable. But given how… nerdy… the rest of his life was, Kuronue still found himself having second thoughts about this assignment. Maybe Koenma had just misplaced the file? Maybe _Reikai_ just didn't record lives that were this routine and picture perfect? Yeah, that's exactly what was going on…

Kuronue sighed almost silently. He'd closed The Den for days without warning before—most recently while breaking into _Reikai_ and during the fall out afterwards—but if he didn't figure out something before Saturday he'd have to dip into his savings to pay rent for the next month. Which he really did not want to do.

 _That's it,_ Kuronue thought to himself as he followed the kid along the rooftops, insubstantial as a shadow, _I'm asking Koenma for compensation next time I see him. If he says no and I lose my apartment, I'll camp out in his office, swear to the gods._

He wasn't the only shadow on the roof.

Kuronue pulled up hard, swearing rather creatively, and buried his face in his hands. "What do you want, Hiei?"

Hiei shrugged, shadows shifting against shadows, and Kuronue rubbed at his temples and closed his eyes. This conversation was bound to give him a headache, and he didn't want eye strain on top of that. "Is it wise, to parade your true appearance across _Ningenkai_ roof tops?" He could almost feel his stare. "Kuronue."

Kuronue shrugged, playing off the nostalgia— _Gods, how long has it been since I heard my true name?_ His wings echoed the movement, before settling against his back again. "Are you _worrying_ about me?" he said, one side of his mouth tilting up into a mischievous smile.

This earned him a derisive sneer. "Please. If Koenma finds out exactly who he hired, we'll both be arrested."

"I'd wondered why you hadn't turned me in," Kuronue said, shaking his head. He doubted self-interest was the whole of the answer, but no point in pushing. Right now. "So what did you want?"

"I? Nothing. You're the one who almost ran into me." Kuronue pursed his lips, resisting the urge to point out that not every conversation was a fight, dammit. "Playing guard dog for _Reikai_?"

"Not anymore," Kuronue said, and stalked over to the low wall around the roof, leaning against it. Shuuichi still wasn't more than a minor blip against the standard background radiation of _reiki_ every large gathering of humans had. When thousands and thousands of humans crowded together in close quarters, you had to have some sort of power to stand out—and standing out was bound to draw _youkai_ attention. He'd be fine alone for the night, considering Kuronue still wasn't convinced he was up to anything. "Do you always hang out on top of buildings?"

Hiei sighed. "Do you always ask inane questions?"

"Hey, if we're working together, we might as well know a bit about each other," Kuronue countered, stretching his wings wide to let them bask in the moonlight. Mm, he needed to let them out more, he was all stiff. "I mean, you certainly know a lot more about me than I do about you."

"You know I'm looking for someone," Hiei bit out, and Kuronue smiled to himself. He'd known there was a reason the irascible fire elemental had shown himself tonight, and it sounded like he was finally getting to the point. "Which is more than anyone else does."

Kuronue weighed his options, wondering if it was worth it to try and befriend Hiei. "I didn't know you were looking for someone," he said at last. "I knew you were looking for something, that's all, and I guessed you'd come to _Ningenkai_ for a reason beyond stealing from _Reikai_ vaults." The moon was waxing towards its first quarter now, and it leant just enough light for Kuronue to make out a flicker of… something, pass over Hiei's face at the mention of the raid. "The _jagan_ ," Kuronue elaborated. "It's a recent addition. You fight like you're used to having more _youki_ at your fingertips and your aura feels perpetually drained. No one goes through that surgery unless they're desperately seeking something, and you hate _ningen_ enough that you wouldn't be here unless you had no other options."

Hiei grunted in the particular way which Kuronue was learning to recognize as his way of agreeing with him. _Though why he can't just say yes like a normal person…_ Kuronue thought with a surprising amount of fondness. "So it seems Kuronue also had some brains," Hiei said.

Pretending offense, Kuronue rolled his eyes with a huff. "Yeah, yeah, just because Kurama was a strategic genius I have to be an idiot. No one seems to consider that he had a tendency to kill fools and that I lived with him for _literally_ centuries."

"Was that the only thing the rumors got wrong?"

"Probably not. Why?"

"You seem to be taking some serious risks for someone who's just a friend…"

The old pain flared up in his chest again, but Kuronue was long practiced in ignoring it. "Why? You interested?" he asked, letting a leer play across his face.

Hiei looked startled, then slightly disturbed. "No."

"Good, cause you're a bit short for my tastes," Kuronue tossed back. Hiei crossed his arms and looked away, but didn't leave. "Hey." A grunt. He could practically trademark that thing. Kuronue suspected that was all he'd get for a while, and decided it was a sign Hiei was listening. "Compensation for getting you wrapped up in this _Reikai_ nonsense. Give me a name and I'll keep my ear to the ground, no questions asked," Kuronue said. Proverbial olive branch extended. Now to see if Hiei would take it. Kuronue counted his breaths and stared up at the moon, listening hard for any sign of Hiei flitting away.

"A _koorime._ Yukina." And a snap of cloth meant Hiei was gone before Kuronue could acknowledge he'd heard him, let alone look at him again.

The _koumori_ grinned, a flash of teeth in shadow and moonlight. Not a bad sort, Hiei, when he wasn't trying to take over the world.

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _Reikai:_ Spirit World, Spirit Realm, Spirit Plane. Where Koenma and Botan live and work. In charge of the judgement of souls.

 _youkai:_ Often translated as "demons," "monsters," or "apparitions." Inhuman, amoral, sentient beings that inhabit a dimension parallel to our own. Most of the villains Yusuke fights in the series are _youkai_. 

_-san:_ An honorific attached to the name of a person of comparable or superior social rank, particularly someone you do not know well. A rough English equivalent would be "Mr." or "Ms."

 _-kun:_ An honorific attached to the name of a boy of similar or younger age to yourself who you are friendly or familiar with. There's no real English equivalent.

 _Makai:_ Demon World, Demon Realm, Demon Plane. A wilder, anarchic world populated by _youkai_.

 _reiki:_ "spirit energy," the paranormal energy that Yusuke and Kuwabara use to fuel their attacks, and Genkai and Botan use to heal; accessible by humans or those who inhabit Reikai

 _Ningenkai_ : Human World, Human Realm, Human Plane. The "real world."

 _jagan:_ "evil eye;" the third eye implanted in Hiei's forehead which grants far-sight, _ki-_ tracking, an increased control over his energy, and minor mental capabilities.

 _youki:_ "demon energy," roughly the _youkai_ equivalent of _reiki_.

 _ningen:_ human. Used in this fic to contrast with " _youkai_ "

 _koorime:_ "ice-maiden." While "yuki-onna" ("snow-women") exist in Japanese mythology and are more than likely an influence upon _Yu Yu Hakusho_ 's _koorime_ , they don't seem to be the same thing. _Koorime_ is the in-universe name for the particular race of _youkai_ Yukina is half of and grew up with.

 _koumori:_ literally "bat," here used specifically to describe bat _youkai,_ namely Kuronue/Kuroji.

* * *

 **A note on the chapter**

Forgive my patchy and incomplete knowledge of video games; it's the part I was most stressed about in this chapter, honestly. I have no system myself beyond a smart-phone (not even a DS) so I've relied heavily on my two closest fic-friends, who do know more about video games than I do. That said, I do have some broad head-canons when it comes to taste in games that mostly supplements what we see in the series. As Yusuke said, he's more into FPS (first person shooters) and other action, blow-stuff-up sorts of games. Shuuichi goes straight for the puzzles and mental challenges, and also _loves_ horror games (when he can manage to get his hands on them). Kuwabara likes FPS too, but has a not-so-secret love of RPGs (role-playing games) too. All three like racing games, too. There is a plot-bunny that wants to play more with the idea-specifically MarioKart and that promised Pokemon fight. (I am open to suggestions for teams, by the way, especially if you can give me justifications for why it's in character.)

I'm really loving the friendship between those three, by the way. They're so much fun.

As for the conversation between Hiei and Kuronue... I find Hiei difficult to write, I'll be up front with that. So if there are aspects that seem out of character... you're probably right, but I did think about it a lot and have my reasons.

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies**

 **Fox:** The discussion about _Reikai_ mechanics seems to have gone over well, which is honestly a relief, as I was worried it felt too much like an info-dump. As for the connection between Shuuichi and Kurama... Well, it takes longer than the reader might expect, but you've got to remember we have information the characters don't, here. Next chapter has some exploration of _reiki_ vs. _youki_ and more Hiei, so I think you'll like it. (Also you should know I went all flail-y and pleased when you said my lore is fantastic... Thank you so much!)

 **Kuro-chan:** Thank you for your review, and I'm glad to see you eager for the next chapter. I don't know if you just started reading, but I (try) to update this story every Monday! I've just finished writing chapter fifteen, so it'll be a while before I run out of material and end up missing that deadline.

Thanks again to Unita and to Samjok-o for their reviews on the last chapter! And thank you all so much for your continued support of this story. Every review means the world to me.


	9. Discovery

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Legerity (origin Latin):_ (n.) a surprising quickness of mind or body.

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Discovery**

* * *

 _In Which a Dragon Learns a Secret and Our Traveler Learns a Skill_

* * *

Kuronue was losing the staring contest because paper couldn't stare. Even magical paper from Reikai. He blinked and buried his face in his hands with a groan, slumping down in the desk chair. For what felt like the millionth time, Kuronue rehashed the same arguments. Serious invasion of privacy. Potentially learning helpful information. Betrayal of trust on his part-potential of betrayal of trust on Kurama's part.

Why did Koenma seem so set on making his life difficult?

He probably already knew most of what was in the thing. Hell, he'd been there for a lot of it, and what he hadn't been there for, Kurama had told him about. Hadn't he? Kuronue knew Kurama best, he always had. He did. Though he'd always wondered…

No, nope, no. Not doing it. If there were things Kurama didn't want him to know about, that was fine and it was his right and it was _fine_. Kuronue picked up the file and dumped it into the desk drawer, slamming it shut. He needed sleep. Koenma had dropped by to give him a new stalking subject (and bring up the file, the bastard), and he'd need rest if he was going to be tracking down a thief. Didn't humans have some sort of saying about that? They had some sort of saying about everything else… Set a thief to catch a thief, early bird gets the worm, can't see the forest for the trees…

Kuronue threw himself backwards onto his bed, landing with a huff, and tried to convince himself that it didn't matter that he had a guaranteed accurate summary of his best friend's life in his desk drawer, because Kurama had never lied to him.

* * *

Few things disgusted Hiei more than humans. He'd have never set foot in _Ningenkai_ if he hadn't been chasing rumors of _koorime_. Two years of searching and nothing to show for it but a so-called job and the stench of _ningen_ soaked into his very skin. Even if Hiei did return to _Makai,_ he was no longer certain he'd ever feel clean again. To add to his indignity, he was now confined to the boundaries of this paltry human settlement they called a city. That damned _koumori_ —not even access to _Reikai's_ records was worth this.

And to be babysitting again while the _koumori_ ran off to investigate some rumor for the princeling, on top of it all… Hells. At least he was able to preserve his dignity. The _koumori_ had to trail after their target like some guard dog, but Hiei could keep an eye on him without moving from his perch at the top of the skyscraper. Even fifty stories of concrete and steel couldn't quite get him far enough away from the noise of the crowd and the reek of pollution. Hiei stood with his hands tucked behind his back, swaying with the wind and resigned to an extremely boring day as he watched the buffoon and his student struggle. Unfortunately, the _jagan_ granted only far-sight, not far-hearing, but he had learned to read lips precisely for this reason.

At the moment the student was sprawled on his back, panting with exertion. Fools. They could only throw themselves at a brick wall for so long before admitting defeat—the _ningen_ simply did not possess enough _reiki_ to push outside his body in any meaningful way. They'd be better served by using what negligible power he possessed to enhance his physical strikes… But Hiei wasn't about to offer them advice.

"Kuwabara- _kun,_ I've been thinking…"

Hiei snorted. He'd never had a conversation with the student, but even he could say the _ningen_ didn't seem to do much else.

"Is it possible for _reiki_ to be extended through objects?"

The buffoon's face scrunched up into a painful expression that meant he was trying to think. "Well… maybe," he said finally. "I mean, I used this bit of spiritually treated sword the first time I made my spirit sword, so I don't see why not."

"So, in theory, an object or weapon could be charged and manipulated with _reiki_?"

Hiei sighed. The buffoon had clearly never had any formal training. The strength of _reiki_ lay in its adaptability, and thus its unpredictability. _Youki_ was comparatively limited, only granting _youkai_ a single manifestation or a single manipulation.

True, many of the more powerful or older demons, such as himself or the _koumori,_ wielded both aspects of _youki_. His own sword and flames were a manifestation and manipulation respectively, in the same way the _koumori_ summoned those strange scythes or controlled the wind. Of course, age and power were no guarantee of wielding both aspects: dangerous as the _youko_ had been, he'd never displayed a manifestation. Plant manipulation and a particularly morbid creativity had made him deadly enough.

Reiki, though, could be trained in many, many different ways. The energy of a single person might be put into healing spells, defensive shields, or weapons. With training, experience, and will, anyway. That said, _reiki_ could only adapt when in the form of pure energy. The buffoon may have used a stick as a guide for his sword, but the stick wasn't the weapon. Unless they managed to find a similar focus for his student—which was unlikely—they were pursuing the wrong route.

"Sure, I guess?"

The redheaded student sat up, a glimmer of determination in his eye. "Then… I think I have an idea…"

Hiei scoffed, and shook his head. This wouldn't work, but it might be a bit entertaining to watch him fail. Stubborn fools, the both of them.

The student rolled onto his hands and knees, sinking his hands deep into the grass of the Kuwabaras' back lawn. He took a deep breath, dragging his _reiki_ to the surface until he glimmered slightly in the image given to him by the _jagan_ —nothing in comparison to the detective's blaze, or even the buffoon's steadily glowing campfire, but the glimmer of dying coals.

Another deep breath, and the image… shifted. The student had pulled something from deep within himself, until the glimmer leapt higher like gasoline on a camp stove. The blaze flowed from the heart down the arms and hands, and out, until each individual leaf of grass for a foot around him was touched with that inner fire. A beat as the student breathed, and then the grass nearest him began to grow—lengthening and twisting and, in the Jagan's sight, blazing with _ki._

And then it stopped.

Hiei sat down, blinking and losing the vision. It took a few seconds for him to find it again, but in the interim the buffoon had managed to cut himself on one of the altered grass blades, now as sharp as a razor.

"What the heck, Shuuichi! How'd you do that?"

The redhead looked gray, but very pleased with himself. "Manifesting my _reiki_ as pure energy wasn't working—it needed a medium. I actually got the idea yesterday in the garden… Many plants have a natural defense system of some sort, the most famous being roses and their thorns. Some species of grass possess a very sharp edge, and they are called grass blades after all."

"So flowers and puns gave you the idea?" the buffoon asked, picking one of the grass blades by its stem very carefully. It promptly shrunk back to it's natural size. "Hey, what happened?"

Shuuichi reached out and had no such problem, turning the grass blade this way and that. It wasn't nearly long enough to use as a sword, perhaps only half a foot in length, but it would make a very effective dagger. "Perhaps because it is my _reiki_ which created it, you are unable to wield it. Could another wield your spirit sword?"

"Good point, I guess. But Shuuichi, you look really, really tired. Maybe we should call it a day?"

Hiei blinked away again as the buffoon attempted to coax his student into setting aside his new ability for later study. For a moment, he sat there in silence and pondered what he had just seen. Suddenly, he laughed.

"Well, this shall be interesting…"

He'd already had a few pieces to an interesting puzzle, and he may have just found a few more, though he couldn't imagine _how_ … It would take some time to see if his suspicions had any true basis, or were even possible. Even if he was wrong, working with _Reikai_ was about to get much more entertaining.

The feeling was unmistakable. The buffoon wouldn't recognize it, but Minamino Shuuichi had just used _youki._

* * *

 **Glossary**

 _Ningenkai:_ Human World, Human Realm, Human Plane. The "real" world, the one we live in.

 _koorime:_ "ice maiden;" influenced by tales of yuki-onna, _koorime_ are an exclusive, all female race of _youkai_ which live on a floating mountain in _Makai_. They reproduce asexually and are forbidden from lying with males of any kind.

 _ningen:_ human. Used in this fic only in contrast with _youkai_.

 _Makai:_ Demon World, Demon Realm, Demon Plane. An alternate dimension that runs parallel to our own, inhabited exclusively by a sentient species called _youkai_.

 _koumori:_ literally 'bat.' In this fic refers to specifically bat-affiliated _youkai_ , so Kuronue/Kuroji.

 _Reikai:_ Spirit World, Spirit Realm, Spirit Plane. Another alternate dimension, this one where Koenma and Botan live and work. A sort of realm of the gods or heaven, _Reikai_ judges and sentences the souls of both _ningen_ and _youkai_ , and keep the peace between the three realms.

 _jagan:_ "evil eye;" the third eye Hiei had implanted in his forehead, which grants him (among other abilities), far-sight and enhanced sensitivity to ki.

 _reiki:_ "spirit energy;" paranormal energy used by humans for attack, defense, healing, etc. Yusuke's Spirit Gun, Kuwabara's Spirit Sword, and Botan's healing abilities are all variations of _reiki_ manipulation.

 _youki:_ "demon energy;" closely related to _reiki,_ but instead used by _youkai._ Thus has a different set of limitations and benefits.

 _youko:_ "spirit fox"

 _ki:_ "energy;" can also refer to someone's aura, spirit, or life energy.

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

A little bit shorter than has been standard, I'm afraid. Apologies. Again, I'm hoping Hiei is in character and that you've enjoyed this little snapshot into his head. I think I write Hiei better from Hiei's perspective than I do from other people's... And it looks like he's figured a few things out, too. Heh, Kuronue just has no luck whatsoever.

Here's at least a little bit of my _reiki_ vs. _youki_ lore... If there's still any confusion, or it wasn't explained clearly enough, please either message me or review this fic, and I'll put in a more detailed explanation in next week's author note. Shuuichi-specific questions will probably be explained later, but anything about the differences in energy in general I'm more than willing to talk about. I don't think this is actually canon, by the way! There's probably a few _youkai_ in canon that _don't_ follow this rule (Rando and his ninety-nine techniques comes to mind), but as it's kind of a non-specific explanation anyway, you could probably debate semantics and stretch the theory and figure out a way to get it to work. For instance, Rando and The Beautiful Suzuki both manipulate their energy directly, in Rando's case this could allowed him to learn _reiki_ techniques. If Suzuki manipulated his energy _signature_ rather than his energy, it would allow him to both change his energy signature and bring out the potential of others via the tools and weapons he constructs, as demonstrated in the series.

Also, no, Hiei's sword is not an actual, real sword. He breaks it too many times for me to think it's a physical object. If I say it's a manifestation of his _youki_ , though, in the same way the Kuronue's _kusarigama_ are, then that solves the problem of how many times it breaks and where the hell it goes after he's not using it. Ditto with Kuronue and his scythes. Plot hole filling is fun!

Final note. I should probably have made this clearer from the beginning, but this fic doesn't take place in the same timeline as the original series. Most obviously you can see this in the technology, especially the games in the last chapter. I tend to be a bit... compulsive... when it comes to research, with very much an all-or-nothing mentality. It's why I'll never manage to write actual historical fiction, and why all my original fic is set in an alternate world "influenced" by a particular time period. If I was going to actually set it in the nineties, I would have made myself go research fashion, technology, popular culture, politics, etc... I was born in 1991. That wouldn't help me at all. So it's already severely AU from the series... I figured pulling it forward a couple of decades wouldn't make too much of a difference at this point.

Next chapter things will start seriously picking up and won't slow down until the end of the fic! I introduce an original case next chapter (Yukina will be rescued off-screen, post-fic), so be sure to come back next week!

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies!**

 **Fox:** Ha, I literally asked for information about Pokemon, so don't worry about going off on the tangent. I figure Shuuichi would probably play through the game multiple times with a different set each time, just to see if he could, but he's so _strategic_ about everything that yeah, he'd put a weird amount of thought into his team and would be really unlikely to do theme teams (as much as I want to throw all the grass types at him...). That said I really need someone to set clips of his _youko_ transformation in the Dark Tournament opposite clips of a Vulpix evolving into a Nine Tails, because now I can't un-see it. A friend of mine promised homicide if I didn't include Lucario on Yusuke's team, too... And if/when I write the actual Pokemon battle between the pair of them, I'll definitely do research for proper teams, and will probably use your suggestions as starting points. Anyway, promised lore for _youki_ vs. _reiki!_ And more Hiei!


	10. Mission Brief

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Persiflage (origin French):_ (n.) light banter

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Mission Brief**

* * *

 _In Which Our Traveler is Benevolently Kidnapped_

* * *

Shuuichi had not anticipated the side effects of his breakthrough on Saturday. He had always found peace in his garden and had a greener thumb than most, but now he looked at the lawn and thought _potential trap,_ not _needs more water._ The tiny grove of bamboo became _spears and swords,_ not _should be cut back soon._ The ivy screamed _garrote or tripwire_ instead of _growing well, perhaps more sun?_ He brought his mother cuttings of roses so he might have a weapon to hand and not to see her smile. The wind through the treetops whispered _just in case, just in case,_ dogging his footsteps on his walk home.

Instant justice, he supposed. He'd not been entirely honest with Kuwabara, acting as if he had stumbled upon the idea in idle thought, not a rustled suggestion. _Take me. Use me. Borrow my thorns._ Would his first thought upon seeing a flower forever be _how deadly,_ rather than _how beautiful?_

Would he mind if it was?

If nothing else, he understood Kuwabara's reluctance to experiment with the manipulation of his energy now. As distracting and unsettling the siren call was, it _fit_. Like he'd finally found what he had been searching for every time he climbed the cherry tree in the front yard as a child. The thought of even trying to use his _ki_ to influence or change anything else made his skin crawl.

"Hey, Shuuichi!" Someone slapped him cheerfully on the back, and Shuuichi spun to see Yusuke grinning widely at him. "Heh, sorry about that," he said, completely unrepentant for sneaking up on him. "Y'know, I was just thinking about you." He shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk alongside him. "Where are you going?"

Shuuichi shook his head. He was never going to understand Yusuke, but that was one of the things that made him so interesting to spend time with. "Home. I've an essay due on Friday I intend to work on. What responsibilities are you avoiding this afternoon?"

"Hey!" Yusuke said, but he laughed anyway. "Man, you must not think much of me at all." Shuuichi stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change, but Yusuke grabbed his elbow and tugged him sideways instead. "Come on, I've got something I think you'll be interested in."

"What is it?" Shuuichi asked, digging his heels in.

Yusuke grinned at him with unsettling confidence, as if he knew for an absolute fact Shuuichi would be coming with him. "Botan cornered me while I was skipping English and said she'd be giving me a new assignment after school got out."

"A new assignment—you mean from _Reikai_? A new case?" Shuuichi fell into step beside him, ignoring Yusuke's laugh at his instant (predictable) change of heart. "Shouldn't you be meeting with Botan? Why did you come find me?"

"Because the toddler's going to learn I'm not going to jump to at a snap of his fingers, and that when his orders are stupid, I'm not going to follow them. You should know whatever it is that's going on, even if you can't help with the case," Yusuke said with surprising vehemence.

"They ordered you not to tell me?" Shuuichi asked. Yusuke shrugged, gritting his teeth and giving him a defiant look. Shuuichi merely hummed. That was certainly something to think about. Later. "Where are we going?"

"Kuroji's place. He's got the most room and the fewest potential eavesdroppers."

Kuroji's place turned out to be an underground bar named "The Den." It was located just the right distance from the seedy projects to draw the more respectable underworld contacts hoping to seem classy, and just the right distance from the safer streets for a younger, more straitlaced crowd looking for some adventure. Low lights illuminated booth seats around the walls and tall, heavy oak tables. Glittering bottles lined the wall behind a chest high bar with round stools which (Shuuichi was vaguely amused to note) were bolted to the ground. In general the bar flirted with the line between friendly and suspicious, rather like its proprietor.

Feeling out of place in his crisp and pressed uniform, Shuuichi followed as Yusuke went down the stairs, clearing the last three in a single jump. "All right, I'm here! Sorry I'm late, had to pick someone up."

The bar was completely empty but for four people clustered around a corner booth, all of whom turned around to look at Shuuichi with expressions ranging from indignant to indifferent.

"Yusuke!" Botan said, standing up and stalking toward him, "What is he doing here?"

"Ran into him on the street," Yusuke said, rocking back on his heels. "Took it as a sign of God and brought him along." He smiled, showing teeth. "I figured he could at least know what's up. Why? Is that a problem?"

Botan sighed, and looked at Shuuichi as if he were a book a friend had recommended and she wasn't sure she wanted to read yet or not. "Ohhh… Fine! But on your own head be it if Koenma- _sama_ finds out about this!"

"The toddler can kiss—"

"Can we begin this farce already? The sooner you tell us what we have to kill, the sooner I can leave." The bad-tempered pronouncement came from the shortest of the group and the only one Shuuichi had yet to meet. He had apparently refused to sit with everyone else, preferring to lean against the wall nearby. Like Kuroji, he dressed in mostly black, though where Kuroji's ripped jeans and leather jacket were fashion statements, the long cloak and sensible boots Shuuichi suspected were the result of more practical motivations—like stealth, intimidation, or cleanliness, as blood didn't show so starkly on dark colors. Black hair was a windswept mess, with spiky black-and-white bangs doing a half-hearted job of masking a white headband tied around his forehead and ruby-red eyes. Considering the disgruntled looks Kuwabara kept throwing his way, this must be Hiei.

Well, Hiei certainly rounded out the "ragtag group of do-gooders," as Kuroji called them. Yusuke was the obvious leader, all good-natured confrontation and brash confidence, black hair slicked out of his face and wearing a green school uniform with the negligence of someone never destined for academia. Kuwabara acted as second-in-command and counterpoint to Yusuke, with his honor code and morality—unusual to see in someone who looked so very much like a delinquent, orange-red hair styled in a pompadour and blue uniform rumpled. However much the two of them bickered, it was clear they were very good friends. Kuroji and Hiei had very different personalities, but Shuuichi guessed they possessed similar skill-sets and served similar purposes: superior stealth, greater experience, but fighters more than capable of keeping up with Yusuke and Kuwabara's growing abilities, with the added bonus of understanding the _youkai_ they were sent after better than the two humans, as they were _youkai_ themselves. Finally, bright and bubbly Botan, who acted as team manager and gave support from Reikai or Ningenkai.

Where did he fit into all this? A good question, as while he did have some training in hand-to-hand, he was not nearly the fighter the other four were. Well, every good operation required strategy, though Shuuichi doubted Yusuke had been thinking in those terms when he'd dragged him along.

Shuuichi slid into the booth beside Kuwabara, while Yusuke and Kuroji sat across from them. Botan retrieved a briefcase from underneath the table and opened it, turning it so that everyone could see the screen placed inside. _Very 'eighties Western spy film',_ Shuuichi thought with some amusement as it flickered on.

"For the past few days, Kuroji has been looking into a few rumors for Koenma- _sama_ to see if there was any truth to them," Botan started. "And, well, there is and there isn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kuwabara asked. "They're true but they're not true?"

"And what're we talking about in the first place?" Yusuke added.

Kuroji glanced at Botan for permission, and she nodded. Shuuichi had never seen Kuroji look so solemn before today. He had an irritating habit of showing up at Kuwabara's whenever Shuuichi did, and he'd always seemed as if he had been thinking of an inside joke known only to himself. He was a puzzle Shuuichi itched to investigate but didn't know how to approach. "When I agreed to work for Koenma, one of my conditions was the right to use his resources to investigate any rumors related to a _youkai_ called the _Youko_ Kurama." Shuuichi frowned faintly, dissecting the way Kuroji spoke as he rubbed absently at one ear. Yusuke looked suddenly thoughtful, but didn't say a word.

Kuwabara asked the question. "Who?"

"The _Youko_ Kurama and the _Koumori_ Kuronue were a team of thieves without parallel," Hiei answered without acknowledging everyone's surprise. "I grew up with ghost stories about the pair of them, but one was killed and the other disappeared fifteen years ago. Kuroji can probably tell you more than I can, though," he finished, lifting his head to meet the other _youkai_ 's eyes with a faint smirk.

"What? Why can't you?" Kuwabara said, twisting around in his seat to glare at Hiei. He and Botan missed the silent exchange of expressions which passed between Yusuke and Kuroji like lightning ( _curiosity, warning, resignation_ ), but Shuuichi didn't, and filed it away for later consideration.

"Kuronue's my older brother," Kuroji said. Botan rounded on him, eyes wide, and squeaked out something that might have been _really?_. "Yes, really, and let me tell you, being related to a gods-damned legend is not fun at _all._ Why do you think I broke into the _Reikai_ vaults?" It took every ounce of Shuuichi's considerable self control to not ask questions. A thief? _Reikai_ vaults? What had he stolen? Was it valuable, or just dangerous? What had their security been like?

"I kind of just figured you were bored," Yusuke admitted, grinning. "Damn, though, that's some serious sibling rivalry. So you're tracking down this Kurama guy to find out what happened to your brother?"

"No, I know what happened to Kuronue," Kuroji said, waving one hand. "But I've got some unfinished business with the _youko_. Now that Koenma knows he might have survived, I've basically gotten jurisdiction on anything Kurama-related, since I'm so motivated."

Amused, Shuuichi realized that Kuroji had neatly sidestepped giving away any actual information about either thief. Hiei was smirking in a way that suggested he had noticed too, though no one else had. Another thing to ask Kuroji about, if he were ever given the chance.

Botan coughed. "Could we get back to the case, please?"

Kuroji shrugged. "Last Friday, Koenma handed me a rumor about a _kitsune_ heading up a smuggling ring of stolen goods across the Makai border. I spent three days running him down. It's definitely not Kurama, but Koenma still wants the ring taken care of." That didn't sound ominous at all.

"How do you know?" Kuwabara asked.

"I'd imagine that's why Koenma has called us, idiot," Hiei said, staring at a point off over the bar. Kuwabara turned and attempted to jump over the back of the booth, almost clocking Shuuichi in the face with his elbow as he did so. Yusuke lunged forward and just managed to catch Kuwabara's collar and prevent a fight. Shuuichi clapped a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh—Kuroji didn't bother.

"Do you have to wind him up, Hiei?" Yusuke complained. "Kuwabara, sit down!"

"C'mon, Yusuke, you know it's how Hiei shows affection," Kuroji said. The _youkai_ in question stiffened, but didn't turn. Kuwabara slumped back in his seat with a muttered apology. "If it had been Kurama, it would have taken me a lot longer than three days to pin down their hideout, if I ever found it. Besides, some of the lackeys I questioned… no way in nine hells would Kurama ever deign to work with them. They actually gave me good information, for one thing."

"High standards?" It was only when Kuroiji raised an eyebrow at him that Shuuichi realized he had spoken. He'd gotten that same amused look in his eye.

"Oh, yeah. High maintenance, too," Kuroji said. Yusuke snickered, then yelped. Shuuichi suspected Kuroji had kicked him. "If Kurama had been in charge, his minions would have either had no information to give me, given me bad information, or wouldn't have been that easily caught, assuming he even had minions in the first place. The hideout would have been one of half a dozen, minimum, and he himself would have been staying somewhere else. Paranoid bastard."

The bitter tone of voice was that of someone speaking of their greatest enemy, but there was something the slightest bit off. In the eyes, perhaps, lay too much admiration. Too much fondness. Another puzzle piece nudged closer to forming a coherent picture. It was a struggle for Shuuichi to keep his silence, but now was not the time, especially when he doubted Kuroji would answer him anyway. It would be much more difficult to finagle answers out of Kuroji, who was so much older than himself and seemed to have actual experience with subterfuge, rather than theoretical knowledge and a knack for manipulation. Patience and timing would be key.

"So we're raiding this hideout this afternoon?" Yusuke asked, pulling Shuuichi's attention back to the conversation. "Sounds like fun." He stood, beginning to slide his way out of the booth.

Shuuichi stared. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah?" Yusuke paused turning to look at him with as much bewilderment as Shuuichi was. "Why?"

"Without finding out what exactly a _kitsune_ is capable of, how many lackeys he may or may not have, whether any of them are an actual concern—you haven't even asked if Kuroji knows the layout of this lair, or if there are likely to be any traps! You have no plan of attack whatsoever!"

"Sure I do," Yusuke defended himself. "Find 'em and punch 'em."

Shuuichi buried his face in his hands. Kuroji reached over and patted him on top of the head, snickering, and he couldn't decide if this helped or just made everything worse.

* * *

 **ki:** "energy;" also soul, spirit, or aura.

 **Reikai:** Spirit World, Spirit Realm, Spirit Plane. Where Botan and Koenma live and work. Mostly deals with the judgement of souls, and is sort of a heaven/hell/afterlife/land of the dead/realm of the gods.

 **-sama:** honorific used to address someone of much higher rank than yourself. Rough English equivalent might be "lord" or "lady." As Koenma is a prince, those employees that actually respect him address him as "-sama."

 **youkai:** a race of sapient beings that are not human and general amoral. Often translated as demon, apparition, or monster.

 **youko:** "spirit fox"

 **koumori:** literally "bat," used here to refer exclusively to bat _youkai_ , like Kuronue/Kuroji.

 **kitsune:** literally "fox." In English, usually used to mean fox _youkai._

* * *

 **A Note on this chapter**

I'm fairly certain this is my first attempt at writing an original "case." Hopefully I don't muck it up too badly. I don't really have a lot to say about this chapter, aside from I really do love the way Shuuichi bounces off everyone, but especially off Yusuke and Kuroji. Most of the rest of the fic will happen from Kuroji or Shuuichi's perspective, and I don't think that changes until the epilogue.

And, by the way, I've finished chapter seventeen and am wrestling chapter eighteen into submission. After I finish it and a super-short epilogue, the fic will be finished!

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies!**

 **Fox:** I don't understand why I don't like Hiei as much as the others, but I think writing him helps a little bit. I'm glad my ideas and headcanons for the differences between _reiki_ and _youki_ made enough sense in-text. I hope you continue to enjoy my fic!

A thank you to both **TiaKay and Samjok-o** for their reviews on the last chapter. Thank you for your continued support, and I shall see you all next week!

I hope you had a good winter holiday, whatever you might celebrate, and that this coming year is better than the last!


	11. Mazes and Puzzles

See end of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Anfractuous (origin Latin):_ (adj.) twisting and turning; mazelike and confusing

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven: Mazes and Puzzles**

* * *

 _In Which Our Traveller Surprises Our Thief (And Appreciates the Current Challenge a Little Too Much)_

Shuuichi wasn't certain how he'd ended up in the lowest level of the parking garage watching Kuroji tease open a door that only _looked_ like a wall, but he was inclined to blame Yusuke. He also wasn't certain how much actual use he'd be on this mission: Kuwabara shot periodic glances at him that said he was worried for his safety, and Hiei had given him a speculative, narrow-eyed evaluation before dismissing him entirely. He doubted Yusuke had thought about dragging him along beyond the impulsive _if you're so worried about strategy come with us and help out,_ and Kuroji… Well, at first glance he'd maintained his half-amused, half-exasperated devil-may-care attitude, but he was winding tighter and tighter the closer to this hideout they got. How much of the growing tension anyone else had noticed, he didn't know.

A section of wall disappeared suddenly, and Kuroji muttered a curse, standing again to his full, rather impressive height. Without further warning, he pulled one leg back and slammed his heel into the lock and handle of the door. It gave with a crack like a gunshot, the door bouncing off the inner wall. What could be seen of the room within was dusty, gray stone, though surprisingly well let for an underground chamber.

"Thanks," Yusuke said, and walked inside with a cocky grin, Kuwabara on his heels. Hiei rolled his eyes and followed.

"You coming?" Kuroji asked shortly. Shuuichi ran one hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, and sighed. "If you don't want to—"

"No, I do," Shuuichi interrupted. "That's the problem. I'm well aware it's extremely stupid of me to walk through that door, but I want to, and I know I'm going to anyway." He gave the _youkai_ an awkward half smile, and stepped over the threshold.

Kuroji instantly started cursing, and it wasn't hard to see why. The moment they'd entered the room, the lights had vanished, plunging them into pitch black darkness. The silence apart from Kuroji's irritation was eerie, as there should have been another three people in the room already.

"A trap. Goddamned _kitsune_." Kuroji's voice echoed weirdly. Carefully, Shuuichi took a slow, shuffling step to the right, fingers stretched out in front of him. Almost immediately, they hit a perfectly smooth wall. Ignoring Kuroji, he moved back to the left. Three steps brought him to another wall, just as smooth as the last. "Tricks and illusions and now we're separated from everyone else, we can't see, and we could be killed at any moment." Shuuichi walked slowly along the wall until it ended abruptly, turning a sharp corner. "And on top of that, I'm stuck babysitting the human least capable of helping out in a fight and too curious for his own good!" Careful exploration let him know he'd found another narrow corridor, parallel to the one Kuroji stood ranting in. "I swear, all the gods are out to get me. Can't one thing, just one, go right? Was all my luck used on the mirror, because I swear by all that's holy—"

"Kuroji."

Silence fell for a few seconds, before he laughed quietly. If it weren't so dark, Shuuichi probably wouldn't have heard how shaky it was. "Damn, but you can make someone jump to, Shuuichi," he muttered. "What is it?"

"I don't think I'm going to be as useless as you fear," he said, carefully returning to their starting point. "I think I know where we are, and I think I can get us out of here."

"Oh, yeah?"

Shuuichi ignored the belligerence. "We're in a maze. I can solve it without sight, but the method will be slow."

"Oh." Surprise, this time, and something almost like respect. "How?"

"If I don't remove my hand from the wall, we'll eventually reach the end of the maze. I believe traditionally it's the left hand, but either one should work." Shuuichi explained. He felt as much as heard Kuroji move to stand beside him, and was almost surprised when long fingers laced between his own.

"Lead on," he said, and it sounded like an apology.

* * *

"Kuwabara-kun said you were a _koumori?_ "

"Yeah…"

"So an animal-affiliated _youkai._ "

"Stop tiptoeing around and ask your question, kid."

"But would you answer if—okay, ow! Stop pinching, you've made your point! What can you do?"

"Rudimentary wind control, which helps me fly, and I can manifest _kusarigama._ I usually just use two of them."

"Am I right to assume _koumori_ have particularly sharp hearing?"

"Beyond your standard _youkai?_ Yeah. Trade off is that we have slightly poorer vision. Still better than 20/20 by human standards, but…"

"I'm a little surprised you're telling me a weakness like that—ouch! What are you, five? Stop pinching me! And _what_ is that clicking?"

"Oh, sorry, I'll stop."

"But what—"

"Tongue piercing against teeth. Nervous habit."

"... _Oh_."

* * *

Minamino Shuuichi had very warm hands for a ghost. Kuronue probably ought to be focusing on something else, like whether or not there were monsters lurking in the gloom, especially since the holding hands thing was his idea in the first place and for purely practical reasons, but there you go.

Kuronue had already been curious about the kid in a vague _he's taking this all weirdly well_ way, but that _weirdly_ was now tailspinning right into _suspiciously_. The kid had just trailed along after Yusuke out of the bar, alternating between incredulity that Yusuke really was planning to just charge head on at the problem and let things work themselves out and flat-out disbelief that that was precisely what he had done with his three previous cases _and it had worked._ He finally gave it up for a lost cause and fell back to walk with Kuronue.

Kuronue had figured he was going to excuse himself to the only person that looked like a potential adult and leave (however irresponsible an adult he appeared to be). He was a little taken aback when the kid had instead started asking some very pointed, very intelligent questions ranging from how to recognize a _youkai_ regardless of illusion or lack of sensitivity, to the various types and subtypes of _youkai_ , to the abilities one could expect from those types and subtypes, to what to expect from _kitsune_ specifically. They'd gotten to the parking garage just after Shuuichi had started to ask after the differences between _youko_ and _kitsune_ , giving Kuronue a blessed excuse for ignoring the question and changing the subject. Vague interest had given way to impressed irritation at that point—Kuronue thought he'd like him more if it didn't feel like he was being interrogated with every conversation, and if that impression was a little less _fucking_ familiar.

So here he was, having decided that walking into a fox's den was the best use of his afternoon and that holding hands with a _ningen_ was his best way out of it. He'd have made some crack about the blind leading the blind, except Shuuichi was unnervingly calm in the face of this minor crisis and had figured out a way around the problem in less than five minutes while Kuronue was still kicking himself for walking headfirst into what was, in retrospect, an extremely obvious trap. No way was this a normal _ningen_. But aside from the missing file, there really wasn't anything to hint at abnormality in Minamino Shuuichi's life. He should know. He'd been basically stalking him for the last week and a half.

And his thoughts were going in circles now. This is why he and Kurama had made such a great team; neither of them were stupid (as if the Youko Kurama would ever deign to partner with someone who couldn't hold his own mentally—it had taken literally years for conversation with Kurama to feel less like an interrogation and _he was not thinking about that, dammit)._ So neither of them were stupid, but sometimes Kuronue's thoughts got on something of a merry-go-round and talking things out with Kurama had always helped.

If Kuronue had still thought Kurama was dead, he'd be convinced that the _youko_ was laughing at him from the afterlife. Instead, he just imagined how hard he'd laugh when he found out exactly what Kuronue had been doing with himself for the last decade and a half.

 _You got caught? By_ Reikai _, really? You're tying yourself up into knots trying to figure out this one human? What really makes me wonder what you were thinking, though, is trying to trap a fox. You ought to know, Kuro…_

"Never corner a fox…"

"They've a tendency to show teeth," Shuuichi said beside him, and Kuronue jumped badly enough that he lost the grip on his hand. "Kuroji?"

"No, nothing," he said, and reached out through the gloom again. "I kind of just… forgot there was someone else here."

"Ah."

"No need to sound so amused."

"I'm not!"

Kuronue ignored the blatant lie. "Any ideas how much farther?"

"No," Shuuichi admitted, though he'd continued on now that Kuronue wasn't spacing out and had taken his hand again. "I'm hoping not much farther. Do you think any of the others have figured their way out of this?"

"Hiei maybe," Kuronue said slowly. "He's got a _jagan_ , and those are usually pretty good about finding things and tracing energy signals. He's probably gotten through the maze and already killed the bastard."

"You'd think the death of the _kitsune_ would cause the illusion to collapse."

"Oh. Point. So he hasn't killed him yet, but he has probably already gotten through. Kuwabara… maybe. He is the one who got us through Maze Castle, but I'm a little less certain on how his sensitivity works."

"How did he guide you through Maze Castle, precisely?"

"Avoiding danger and traps and heading towards the _youki_ ," Kuronue said with a shrug that was invisible in the darkness. "You'll have to ask him for more specifics."

"I will, thank you." Shuuichi's voice was distant, mind clearly miles away. Kuronue waited patiently as he thought, doubting the teen would notice if he even said anything. "If I were to set up traps for intruders, there'd be more than one layer, and they'd be angled towards neutralizing the abilities of those most likely to intrude," he said abruptly. "More than one would explain why the illusion hasn't dispersed yet, assuming Hiei's _jagan_ would let him follow the _kitsune_ 's trail through the maze—though that also depends on the assumption that the maze is physical on some level and not merely a construct within our minds."

"Eek?"

"Indeed. I'm rather hoping it's the former, otherwise my left-hand trick may or may not apply. If psychic sensitivity like Kuwabara's operates by steering away from danger and towards a goal, then a darkened maze would be very useful. It's also extremely unlikely to kill us, at least not without the _kitsune_ 's direct intervention. If there is no danger to avoid, then he must rely solely on sensing the _kitsune_ 's _youki_ , a straight path which would likely lead him through several walls. Assuming as well that the _kitsune_ isn't simply masking his energy, as one versed in illusions should be more than capable of doing."

"Quite a few assumptions, there."

"Yes," Shuuichi said. He sounded irritated with the lack of solid information. "But they're fairly justified assumptions, so they'll do." The _for now_ was implied.

"Also, remind me never to let you become an evil overlord," Kuroji said. "I get the feeling you'd be a little too good at it."

That startled a genuine laugh out of him, and Kuroji let the darkness hide his grin.

* * *

"You know, you never did answer what the difference between a _youko_ and a _kitsune_ was."

"Mm."

"So I take it you won't answer?"

"I'm not really sure I know. _Kitsune_ are good with illusions, and are tricky as all hells. _Youko_ aren't _kitsune,_ but they share some traits and are a kind of fox. I've always been a little mixed on the distinctions."

"Do you think this _kitsune_ will have information on your _youko_?"

"I doubt it, but I intend to ask."

"Oh."

"And what do you mean by _my youko_?"

"Well, he's your target, isn't he?"

"Now, why don't I believe that's what you meant?"

"I don't know."

"My first introduction to you was watching you very neatly trap Botan in a lie and trick information out of her."

"Yes?"

"I _know_ you're not as innocent as you're able to sound. Stop it, it doesn't suit you."

"Mm. Well, they were very bad lies."

"I told her she needed lessons, but I don't think she's going to listen to me."

* * *

Between one breath and the next, the lights came back on and Shuuichi and Kuroji found themselves standing in a room built of grayish, roughly hewn stone. On the other side of the room were two doors, identical in every single way. On the outer side of the doors stood two statues, both of humans of indeterminate gender and age, though Shuuichi got the vague sense they were both very, very old. Between the two doors was a poster of some sort, and a few feet in front of them…

"Dammit, Jaganshi," Kuroji said, stalking toward the motionless figure. It was Hiei, but… Shuuichi watched as Kuroji reached out to shake the smaller _youkai_ , and then freeze, his expression flicking from surprised to disgusted to furious. "Hell. _Fire,_ " he said quietly.

"What is it?"

"That damned—I'm going to string him up by his entrails. I'll rip off his ears and make him eat them…" Kuroji was shaking. "This was business, but that fox—oh, now it's personal."

"What's going on?" Shuuichi took a few careful steps closer. His instincts were screaming at him; whatever was going on with Hiei was wrong in a way that crawled over his skin, but drawing the attention of a furious _youkai_ was an equally bad idea.

Thankfully, Kuroji did not seem inclined to attack anyone who spoke to him. He jabbed one finger down towards Hiei's boot without a word. Something green was curled on the ground, reaching tendrils up and digging into Hiei's skin. As Shuuichi watched, the vines moved on their own, tracing weird raised patterns underneath his skin. "Is that… poison ivy?"

"Yes. A variety from _Makai_ if I'm not mistaken."

Shuuichi gnawed on his lip, trying to make sense of this new information. "But… the _kitsune_ is a master of illusions."

"It is an illusion. A very, very good one, but an illusion nonetheless. If it were real, Hiei would be screaming, no matter how high his pain tolerance. Though I also suspect that if it were real, he'd have set the thing on fire before it got this far," Kuroji added, crossing his arms and glaring at the plant. His usual humor had long since disappeared. "Poison ivy from the Makai secrete acid to soften the victim pre-digestion. Shoving that under someone's skin, and letting it move? Sadism at it's finest."

"You've seen this before?" Shuuichi asked, looking away from Hiei to watch the _koumori_.

"Mm. Kurama pulled it once or twice with people who _really_ pissed him off," Kuroji said, still glaring at the greenery. "There's a damn good chance our smuggler just went from mistaken identity to intentional imposter. I'm going to kill him. Slowly. And with great pleasure." Kuroji finally looked up and noticed Shuuichi's patient expectation. One corner of his mouth lifted into something that was still a little too angry to be called a smile. "So you _do_ know when to not ask questions."

"They would antagonize you needlessly at the moment, and you'd refuse to answer out of spite," Shuuichi said promptly, folding his hands behind his back.

A reluctant huff of laughter. "When _youkai_ hear _fox thief,_ they automatically think of the _Youko_ Kurama _,_ " he explained, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his tattered jeans. "Fifteen years since he supposedly died, and that's still the case. That's how famous the pair of them were. It's probably why I ended up working recon for this mission in the first place. So we've a _kitsune_ who is undeniably talented with illusions, judging by that maze, who's pretending to be _Youko_ Kurama to take advantage of that fame and reputation."

"And he's not doing it very well," Shuuichi said. "You saw through him without much effort at all."

"Exactly. I figured it was just a mistake, but if he's doing this on purpose—and if his illusion traps are going to look like flesh-eating plants, it's on purpose—he just made this personal."

Shuuichi nodded. That was twice, now, that Kuroji had mentioned it being personal. _Kurama isn't a target to you at all, is he?_ "How did Hiei get caught in an illusion trap, anyway?"

"Don't know."

Avoiding looking at the way the tendrils of poison ivy were moving under skin, Shuuichi looked around the room for some clue, finally moving towards the two doors and the notice posted between them. He read it through once, then again with disbelief.

Kuroji turned when he started to laugh. "That is not the right response to this mess."

"I know you're angry," Shuuichi said, covering his mouth with one hand to hide a smile. "But our enemy being an imposter actually tells us several useful things about what to expect. For instance, he's not _remotely_ original." He tapped the notice with one finger.

Curiosity piqued, Kuroji stepped forward to read over his shoulder. "Two doors stand before you. One way leads onward; the other to doom. One of the guardians can tell only the truth; the other guardian can speak only lies. You may ask one question. What the ever-loving—"

"I've heard this riddle before," Shuuichi said before Kuroji could finish the sentence; he didn't know if asking the wrong question would spring a trap or not. "Even if I hadn't, it's a simple matter of asking a question where both guardians have to give the same answer."

"You can get past it, then." Kuroji said. It was emphatically not a question, but Shuuichi nodded anyway, pleased he'd picked up on the possibility that now they were aware of the rules, they should watch their words. Just in case.

"Yes." Kuroji made an elaborate shooing gesture at him, and Shuuichi walked over to the left-hand statue.

"If I were to ask your friend which path would take me onward, what would they say?"

With a grinding of stone on stone, the guardian tilted their head down to blink at the redheaded teen. "The path on the right." Without another word, the guardian turned slowly back to their original position.

"Come on, Kuroji. We take the left path," Shuuichi said. "Oh, you wouldn't happen to have paper and something to write with, would you? If Yusuke and Kuwabara- _kun_ are behind us, they might need the puzzle explained to them."

"Unfortunately I don't carry a notebook around with me," Kuroji said. "You're the student, haven't you got something?"

"I left my book-bag in your bar," Shuuichi said, and sighed. "We'll have to hope we don't encounter something we can't manage, then, because I don't think we can expect any help."

Kuroji groaned, and with a twist of his wrist summoned one of his _kusarigama._ "Explain it to me and I'll carve it into the floor."

Shuuichi nodded. "You should probably let them know that we're facing an imposter and that Hiei isn't actually being eaten alive by poison ivy." Kuroji rolled his eyes, but started scratching out the message. Shuuichi waited patiently until he was done. "Okay. They need to ask whichever guardian what path the other one would say would take them forward, then take the opposite of whichever is named."

"Wouldn't it be easier to say _go left?_ "

"No, because we've no guarantee that next time the path won't have switched. You have to trap them into agreeing on something. If you ask the question of the liar, they would say their partner would point to the unsafe door. If you ask the question of the honest one, they would tell the truth and say their partner would point to the unsafe door. So now you know which door to not take, and you simply have to take the other one," he explained. "There are variations on the riddle, but it comes down to making them both identify the same thing."

Kuroji stared at him. "I am _not_ carving all of that out."

Shuuichi sighed. "Fine. Tell them to ask one of the guardians which path the other one would say to take, and take the opposite."

"That's a little better," Kuroji said. "I'm just hoping that this thing isn't erased the instant we leave the room. Have I mentioned yet how much I hate this guy?"

"I got the impression somewhere around your decision to feed him his own ears."

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

If anyone's still confused by that last riddle... I'm sorry, but that's the best explanation I can give you using text. Hopefully you followed it well enough and I can try and rephrase in a PM if anyone needs it. Also if you ever find yourself in a maze, that is in fact a valid method of getting out, though it might be somewhat time-consuming.

I'm fond of this chapter. I wanted Shuuichi involved with a case properly before everything seriously goes to hell in a handbasket, but I also wanted to emphasize that right now he still can't really fight demons. And there just... are not enough riddles in the series. There aren't. The "fight" against Kaito is one of my favorites because it's one of the very very few times we see a literal battle of wits. That fight is what I'm using for the justification of Hiei being out of action so quickly, by the way.

* * *

 **Review Replies!**

I don't know why, but not all of my reviews are showing on the page? I've gotten email notifications for reviews that are counting towards the number of reviews but aren't being displayed on this site... So I'll reply to those when they show up or in next week's chapter. I'm sorry, but there's really nothing I can do about it.


	12. Imposter

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Akrasia (origin Greek):_ (n.) lack of self-control

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Imposter**

* * *

 _In Which Our Thief Loses His Temper Spectacularly_

* * *

The door beyond the twin guardians led down a winding, narrow hallway lit by flickering fluorescent lights. It vaguely resembled something Kuronue had seen in an American motel, with peeling wallpaper and suspicious stains on the carpet. There were no doors, and the longer they walked, the more irritated Kuronue got. "Any clever solutions for this one?" he said, glancing at Shuuichi, who was trailing behind him, eyes fixed on his heels. He was either thinking or worried, and Kuronue couldn't make himself care either way.

"No," Shuuichi said, looking up at him to shake his head. "Sorry. The best I can think is to do something unexpected in an attempt to break the illusion, but I can't think of anything appropriate. And if it backfires, I'm not certain what might happen."

"Of course not," Kuronue said. He shouldn't be taking it out on the kid, but it was getting harder and harder _not_ to. Kurama was doing a damn good job of haunting him when he wasn't even dead. He'd thought more about his dead partner in the last month than he had for the last _decade_. Little wonder he was so frustrated when he'd thought he was over Kurama and the tangled mess of emotions his death never failed to bring up.

"You know," Shuuichi said, "If this _kitsune_ is deliberately pretending to be the _Youko_ Kurama, then he will try to mimic him. Can you tell me anything useful about him?" Kuronue scowled, crossing his arms angrily. "Kuroji?"

"Look. I'm really, really not in the mood to play interrogation with you right now." Kuronue could hear his teeth grinding, and had to consciously force his jaw to relax. "I'm pissed enough without the twenty questions. I won't feel better until I get to punch the bastard's face in. If you don't have a solution to this damned puzzle, I don't want to hear it."

"Of course. I only asked because any information might yield a clue."

Kuronue groaned. "Cute, kid. But I mean it. Kurama's off limits."

Five minutes of blessed silence, but for their footsteps on the ratty carpet. And then—

"Kuroji?" Kuronue stopped, hands clenching furiously in front of him as he resisted the urge to throttle the kid. If he had another oh-so-innocent question… "I have an idea."

"Okay, that I'm willing to listen to." Kuronue turned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Shoot."

"It's a little crazy…"

"I can almost guarantee I've done crazier."

Shuuichi raised one red eyebrow with delicate skepticism, but shrugged. "I think you should attack the wall."

There was a beat of silence. "Not unless you can give me a damned good reason why."

Shuuichi pushed his mess of wavy red hair away from his face with one hand, lips pursed as he considered what to say. "Well… Remember what I said in the maze? About how I'd lay traps for the sort of people I'd expect to come apprehend me? The maze would work for those spiritually aware, like Kuwabara. The riddle would work for those who are impatient or only rely on brute strength. But this hallway?" Shuuichi gestured at the walls. "I think it's designed to counter someone who relies upon their intellect. They'd keep walking, forcing themselves to be patient, in anticipation of some riddle or puzzle they will never encounter. So if we're impatient and start breaking down walls…"

"The illusion won't be able to compensate for that and will break." Kuronue eyed the teen with grudging respect. "And impatient people would have gotten caught in the riddle. You know, that might actually work."

Shuuichi smiled and shrugged in a way Kuronue expected was meant to be modest. Still, any plan was better than no plan, so Kuronue took a few steps back from the wall and, with a twist of his wrist, gripped one of his _kusarigama._ He flung the blade into the wall, and followed the strike up with a second summoned blade.

The walls of the hall shattered like so much painted glass. Shuuichi seized the back of Kuronue's shirt as they fell, or seemed to fall. He let go immediately when they landed, of course, but Kuronue shot a narrow-eyed glare at him on principle.

They had finally reached the inner sanctum of the thieves' hideout. It looked rather like a warehouse, dimly lit and stocked with a few wooden crates and a few rusted cages. This was secondary, though, to the fact that the shattering of the illusion had caught the attention of the dozen or so nearby flunkies, and every single one of them was now turning to look at the pair of them.

"Aw, _hellfire,_ " Kuronue swore in the approximately two seconds of silence before all hell broke loose. Shuuichi, smart kid that he was, promptly threw himself to the ground and as much out of Kuronue's way as he could get while still technically surrounded. Kuronue couldn't blame him. Taking down Makai insect possessed humans was one thing; _youkai,_ even third-rate thug _youkai_ like these, was another. Trusting that Shuuichi would keep himself out of the way and (preferably) alive, Kuronue let himself indulge in some misplaced aggression.

They didn't know what hit them. He didn't even need to waste time manifesting his scythes, as he had yet to let them go after breaking the illusion. Kuronue leapt up—far higher than any human could manage, but hey, that's what youkai blood would getcha—and flung out both scythes. The left caught one flunky in the stomach, the right sliced through two throats. Kuronue twisted to land facing the other way, jerking the chain of one scythe and catching it, swinging it up just in time to block a lead pipe. It's wielder fell in the next second, missing his head.

At this point the remaining thugs realized he might pose a bigger problem than they'd first thought, and attacked with battle cries and varying levels of enthusiasm. Kuronue just laughed. At how incompetent these minions were, at the ridiculous farce his life had become, at how good it felt to have adrenaline pumping in his veins and a blade slicing through the other person's flesh—Kuronue laughed because that had always been his response to life's attempts to kick him in the teeth; he always had, and always did, and always would. When the entire group was dead and Kuronue spun in place to make sure of it, his braid whipped around and hit him in the nose, and he laughed at that, too, pushing it back over his shoulder.

They'd really been pathetic, but sheer numbers had made it fun. He grinned, and noticed the redheaded human still sprawled out on the ground, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Might want to stand up, Shuuichi," he suggested, offering him a mostly-clean hand. "You'll get blood on that uniform, and how _will_ you explain that to your mother?"

"Ah… Good… good point." Shuuichi took the hand, though, and let Kuronue pull him to his feet. "Feel better?"

"Violence is the best therapy in existence for youkai," Kuronue said with another grin just this side of manic. "Regretting your curiosity yet?"

"Oh, no. Not at all." He sounded the slightest bit breathless as he let go of his hand. "I'm going to check on—" He waved vaguely towards the cages, where Kuronue could see several worryingly human-shaped shadows.

He swore creatively and vehemently enough that Shuuichi actually took a step back. "Smuggling ring into Makai. I should have known—human trafficking. Damn thatfox to the lowest pits of hell! No wonder Koenma wanted this place dismantled."

"Speaking of which, I'd be interested to know why he hasn't shown up, yet," Shuuichi said. "Surely he heard the commotion."

"He's probably setting up a trap of some sort," Kuronue muttered, spinning one of his scythes by the chain, ready to sling it out at the first noise.

"And I'd thought your pet did all the thinking for you." The voice was male, deep, and (of course) coming from behind them. Kuronue almost fumbled the spin on his scythe, but flicked it into his hand to recover. He closed his eyes a moment to prepare himself, and turned.

In a shadowed warehouse, the fox perched on top of the crate could pass for Kurama, if Kuronue squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the left: silver hair, darker ears, wearing loose white clothes. The _kitsune_ even had something of Kurama's arrogant elegance, ankles crossed and leaning back on his hands as if the threat Kuronue posed to him was negligible at the very best.

His face was too wide. His ears were too rounded. His hair was too short. His lips were too thin. His voice was too deep. There were dozens of things Kuronue could name immediately that were just the slightest bit _off._ But gods—there was a moment Kuronue betrayed himself, and wished he could pretend.

"You know," Kuronue said, setting his scythe spinning again and ignoring how his voice shook. If he admitted it he would have to decide if it was in anger or pain. "I bet you never met him."

"Oh?" He tilted his head to the side, right ear twitching towards him. Kuronue had to drag his eyes back to his face, because how many times had he watched those ears—no, watched _Kurama's_ ears—and wanted— _Concentrate, Kuro_. "Who, your little human?"

"No." The thin chain hummed as it rubbed against his knuckle. "Kurama." That got his attention. Kuronue flicked one of his scythes up towards him, and wasn't surprised when it cut through nothing. The kitsune had flipped to one side, continuing the movement so that he rolled off the top of the crate and landed in a crouch.

Kuronue tugged lightly on the chain and caught the scythe as it rebounded, flipping it through his hand and starting it spinning again. "The illusion is convincing, and you've got the gist of it, but honestly? You don't look a thing like him. You went off legends and gossip and word of mouth, didn't you? Oh, maybe you had a conversation with him once, or found a picture, but not more than that." Kuronue grinned, fanged and vicious and threatening, and caught the spinning scythe by its handle. A mist was forming about their feet, but he ignored it. "So why don't you drop it and give me a real name?"

The imposter reached for his hair.

Kuronue slammed his back into the crate, the curve of his blade pressing into the arc of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head back or have his throat slit. "Don't you dare," he whispered. His eyes were the wrong shade. Too yellow, not the warm color he remembered, caught between honey and a tree's life-blood. "Don't you fucking dare."

They breathed. Kuronue could feel the rise of the fox's chest against his own, warm and solid and he _wanted_ it to be real and hated that it wasn't and hated himself for wishing it was.

When the hand left silver hair, fingers were wrapped loosely around a bright red rose. Kuronue's arm jerked up. Arterial blood splashed across his face, staining pale skin and white clothes and silver hair.

Kuronue took a single, deliberate step back. Without his support, the corpse collapsed to the floor, kicking up a swirl of fog before it was covered. He wiped at his face with the back of one hand and turned around, putting his back to the crate this time. His eyes fell on Shuuichi, who he'd honestly forgotten until that second. Shuuichi had the wide eyes and too-calm look of someone very close to running in the opposite direction. "Go check on the captives," Kuronue ordered him. It took a serious effort to not snap at him. He nodded, closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself, and left, mist swirling around his calves. Kuronue had to give him props; he was still upright and functioning after seeing someone killed in cold blood.

Speaking of which… "I've been covered in blood enough times to know it's supposed to be a lot thicker than this," Kuronue said out loud once Shuuichi's footsteps had faded into silence. He flicked his fingers so that drops of blood splattered like water onto the floor. "Where are you?"

"You seem to be taking this personally." Another fake slid around the corner, and smiled with studied nonchalance. "Was he a friend of yours? I hadn't thought the _Youko_ Kurama had had any friends, let alone someone close enough to defend his honor."

Well, at least he was acknowledging that he and Kurama were two different people, now. "Drop the illusion," Kuronue said, grip white-knuckled around the handle of his scythe.

"Mm, I don't think so." A slow smile. "It's making you angry, after all. But…" Yellow eyes swept over him. "I'll drop mine if you drop yours."

As if this fight couldn't get any worse. Of course an illusionist would be able to tell. "Nah, I don't think so." Kuronue shrugged. "I paid good money for this thing. But if we're talking equal exchange, here, I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours?"

"But I already know it."

"Not Kuroji." That got a visible twitch. "You know I'm under an illusion and you think I'm _not_ lying about who I am? Your stupidity is dragging Kurama's name through the mud."

The fox hesitated, for the first time looking at him as if he might be a threat. "Watanabe," he said, finally. "And you?"

Kuronue smiled, all teeth and rage and feral joy in how much pain he was about to dish out. "Kuronue."

Even without the ability to read minds, he could almost see Watanabe process this—moving from _Who?_ to _Wait, I know that name_ before settling firmly on _Oh, shit._ "I think I'd like to surrender, now," he said.

Kuronue took a slow step forward. "Oh, no. I never saw Kurama give up on anything. You want to play pretend? You don't _get_ to surrender."

Watanabe didn't give him the chance to get closer, twisting on his heel and bolting deeper into the warehouse. The silver bled out of him as he fled, hair and ears turning a muddy, unremarkable brown, tall form shortening to something stockier. Close on his heels, Kuronue could feel him gathering together his _youki_ , and couldn't care whether it was for an attack or to just get away. There was a sharp shattering sound that Kuronue noted as being familiar, and then he collided into Kuwabara hard enough that both of them went to the floor. Kuronue took the fall on his shoulder, rolling with it to come up again, cursing wildly. Watanabe must be cutting his losses, conserving _youki_ by breaking his other illusions.

"Okay, that's a new one," Yusuke said, offering a hand to his friend. "Care to catch me up?"

"Illusionist. Shuuichi's with the cages. I'm killing the fox," Kuronue said shortly.

"Not if I get there first," Hiei snarled. With a flare of _youki_ , he darted away, practically disappearing. Kuronue was after him as fast as thought, dimly relieved that Yusuke and Kuwabara at least had the sense to recognize he had claimed this fight and they ought to stay out of it.

 _If that pint-sized_ youkai _takes my kill because of his wounded pride…_ Kuronue growled to himself. _Oh, things will not be pretty. Not at all._

He caught up with Hiei just in time to see two brown tails flick around the edge of another crate (what was in those things, they were _everywhere_ ) and dive for a darker, shadowed space that meant 'hole.'

"Oh no you don't!" Kuronue snarled, and pulled on the air around Watanabe hard enough that he went skidding back with a yelp. Hiei, quick on the uptake as always, snagged him by both tails, holding him out at arm's length as the canine writhed and twisted, snapping at air in desperation.

Hiei sneered. " _This_ is the thing we've been sent to kill?" he asked, brandishing the fox at Kuronue. "This coward isn't worth the buffoon's time, let alone mine!" He took the two steps necessary to block the potential exit, and dropped the fox at Kuronue's feet.

Kuronue flung down a scythe. It embedded itself centimeters from the coward's snout. "Change back," he said, light and pleasant as if he were talking about the weather.

Watanabe abandoned his fox form, cringing against the floor and darting glances at the both of them. "I'm sorry!" he gasped. "It didn't even start as my idea, someone just assumed and I went with it! A trick, that's all. Just a trick, I meant no offense, I swear! You know his reputation! How clever, how ruthless he was—" Watanabe cut off when Kuronue knelt and shoved his blade into his face.

"I'd recommend you stop. Talking," Kuronue said. "Hiei's right, you're a coward hardly worth the effort to kill."

"If I had known the _Koumori_ Kuronue was still alive—!"

From the corner of his eye, Kuronue could see Hiei's head jerk up, and his surprise was as effective at quenching his temper as a bucket of cold water. Kuronue ran the earlier fight and conversation through again in his head, and could have bit his own tongue off for his stupidity. Dammit. Just… Gods _damn_ it. Kuronue reversed his grip on his scythe and stabbed it into the ground near the _kitsune_ 's fingers. He barely registered the way the fox flinched away, too busy thinking.

Giving Watanabe his name had been a screw-up of epic proportions. Koenma kept an eye on their missions. He'd known that. He'd seen the over-the-top wall-sized television screen during his "judgement"/recruitment. Right now he _might_ be able to play it off as a bluff. Might. And if he couldn't, he still had a chance of convincing Koenma that he was just as reformed as he'd ever been and that it would really be on his best interests to keep him on the team.

If he tortured Watanabe to death in cold blood like he _longed_ to, any chance he had of smoothing things over with _Reikai_ would go up in smoke. They didn't exactly approve of death-by-torture when they weren't ordering it. Well, he'd lived on the run for most of his life, going back to that wouldn't be such a big deal—if it weren't for the fact that he needed _Reikai_ resources to find his _real_ Kurama, of course.

So. Couldn't kill him, because there would be inconvenient consequences from _Reikai._ Couldn't hand him over to _Reikai_ , because there's all the confirmation necessary about being Kuronue, cue those same inconvenient consequences. Couldn't let him escape, because he didn't want his survival to become common knowledge yet. Was there a fourth option? Hm. Decisions, decisions.

Watanabe made the decision for him. Taking advantage of his distraction, the fox swung up one leg to drive his heel into Kuronue's sternum, blurred back into fox form, and dove for the hole. He was, Kuronue had to admit while wheezing for breath, _very_ fast.

Too bad Hiei was faster.

The two halves of the fox fell to the floor with a sickening squelch. Kuronue rubbed at his breast bone. It was the fourth option he'd been looking for, but damn if it didn't leave him distinctly unsatisfied.

"Pathetic," Hiei said, nudging the remains with the end of a boot. "I can't believe you let him get even that hit in."

"Yeah, yeah," Kuronue muttered, waving a hand. "Ugh, I'm going to be sick." He tried to breathe around the tightness in his chest. "Thanks." To say the word was grudging would be akin to calling the Pacific Ocean a puddle. Still. Hiei had solved more than a few problems for him by killing Watanabe.

Hiei scoffed, refused to look at him, and disappeared. Kuronue was reasonably sure this meant that Hiei knew how much trouble he'd helped Kuronue avoid, and didn't want to admit to it. After all, that would imply that Hiei cared about someone, which of course they couldn't have. If Kuronue had been in a better mood, it would have been funny.

Instead, he forced himself to his feet and started walking back towards the middle of the warehouse, trying not to think about all the different ways the last fifteen minutes could have gone better.

* * *

Padlocked. Intimidatingly large, but there were only five pins that Shuuichi could feel, and they were giving easily. He'd hardly bothered to look for keys; if they weren't visible, then it would take too long to find them. He had checked everyone's pulse and judged them all to be alive, if drugged. Administering first aid through metal bars two centimeters thick, though, would be problematic.

Hence the poor man's lockpicks, constructed from a spare paperclip he'd had in a pocket, thank the gods. And thank them, too, that there was only one, large cage—paperclips tended to be one-use-only. Even with most of his attention focused behind him, it was only a few minutes before the lock popped open, and he could start checking over the listless group of humans this _kitsune_ had intended to sell.

There were about ten people in here, homeless or druggies or runaways or prostitutes, and it didn't take a lot of thought to guess at how they'd been captured, or that there had been a lot more. Shuuichi would be concerned about the developing violent streak later, but for the moment he'd acknowledge that the man he'd seen killed was probably not the real one (blood didn't act like that; honestly, he'd seen horror movies with better special effects) and hope that Kuroji had managed to trap the fox and bash his skull in.

He was trying to angle one woman's face towards the weak overhead lights to see how well her pupils reacted when Yusuke and Kuwabara stumbled into view. Shuuichi held up one hand, and they hesitated. "Kuwabara, what's the name of your cat?"

The burly redhead blinked at him. "Eikichi. Why?"

Shuuichi ignored him. "Yusuke, what was the answer to the video game question I helped you with?"

Yusuke groaned. "Are you going to hang that over my head _forever?_ I would have gotten there! Eventually!"

"And?"

"Argh, fine. Pokemon White, it was talking about the bookcases and not footsteps."

Shuuichi relaxed and gave the pair of them an embarrassed smile. "All right, you are yourselves."

Yusuke and Kuwabara glanced at each other. "And why wouldn't we be?"

"Because _kitsune_ are adept at illusions and our current target has demonstrated a particular flair for impersonation."

"So… Should we be asking you some sort of question, too?" Kuwabara asked slowly.

"Nah," Yusuke answered for him. "He knew about that stupid game, it's Shuuichi. Though seriously? I never pinned you for the paranoid type."

"Better paranoid than dead. If the last month has taught me anything, it's that there are in fact things that would like to eat me," Shuuichi said, not bothering to keep the dry humor out of his voice. He had always been fond of black humor. "Do either of you know much first aid?"

"First ai—those are people?" Kuwabara clambered into the cage, kneeling beside a boy who couldn't be more than ten. Yusuke stopped on the threshold, putting his back to them so he could guard against an attack. "Sick. Bastard. My sister's patched me up enough times I know some things, but that's for scrapes and bruises and stuff."

"Can you check for a concussion?" Kuwabara nodded. "And do either of you have a flashlight, or penlight?"

Yusuke shook his head, though his eyes didn't stop roving over what he could see of the warehouse. "Sorry, man. You got any ideas on getting us out of here?"

Shuuichi shook his head, pushing hair out of his eyes with the back of one hand. "I haven't seen a way in or out. Kuroji and I broke through the illusions and ended up here. Have you seen him?"

"Yeah, he looked pissed," Kuwabara said. "Shuuichi, there's not a lot we can do for these people."

"Barring calling a hospital. There's every chance they've been sedated with something not of this world, which a hospital might not be able to recognize, let alone treat." Shuuichi frowned. What did they have? What did they need? What could he use? "I don't think there are any head injuries," he said at last. "So we can move them, as I doubt your employer can teleport them away."

"That would be useful," Yusuke grumbled. "So no, probably not."

"Well, why don't you call him and find out?" Kuwabara asked. "You've still got that compact phone thing, don't you?"

Yusuke stared at him, nonplussed. "Compact—Oh! Yeah!" He dug around in one pocket before pulling out what looked like a woman's makeup mirror. Shuuichi raised one eyebrow. Reikai's research and development department _clearly_ watched far too many eighties spy films. "I have no idea how it works, though. Botan always called me."

"Press buttons until something happens," Kuwabara said.

"Let's at least get these people out of the cage in the meantime," Shuuichi suggested, sliding the woman he'd been examining over his shoulders. "If the cage is warded to prevent escape, it might interfere with anything Koenma is or is not capable of doing."

Kuwabara helped him drag everyone out as Yusuke mashed random buttons, alternating between swearing at the compact and at Koenma. They were almost finished when the compact lit up and started ringing like an old-style phone.

"Pacifier-breath? That you?" Yusuke asked, shaking the compact. "Come on, please let this have worked."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Yusuke?" A young voice made tinny by poor speakers came from the compact. "You really ought to treat me with respect!"

"Yeah. Not gonna happen," Yusuke said, though he was grinning in a way that made Shuuichi suspect he gave Koenma more genuine respect than anyone else in his life. Curious as to what the son of the god of death looked like, he tried to move so he could look over Yusuke's shoulder. Discreetly, of course. "You could have warned us the bastard was involved in slavery, by the way."

"Slavery? No, he should have been… Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. We've got eleven people down here completely checked out of it. Thoughts?"

A sigh. "If you can get them into the same place, I'll send some people down there once everything else is taken care of."

"Gotcha. Hear that, Shuu—" Yusuke half turned, and jumped when he saw him much closer than he'd expected. "How many times, man? Stop sneaking up on me!"

"I don't mean to," Shuuichi said, as smoothly as he could manage when holding back a smile.

Kuwabara was laughing loudly behind the both of them. "Come on, Urameshi! It's hilarious!"

"Yeah, we'll see how funny you think it is!" Yusuke said, dropping the compact into Shuuichi's hands and diving at Kuwabara, who luckily moved away from the unconscious humans before their fight began. Shuuichi sighed, but turned his attention to the small mirror.

"Hello," he said, giving the child on the screen a small smile. He had been forewarned, sort of, by a few comments from both Yusuke and Kuroji, but he hadn't really believed their employer was a _literal_ toddler. He'd assumed Koenma was immature in personality, not in body, but the impatience with which he watched the screen and the way he scowled… pacifier aside, that was not the look of a frustrated two-year-old minutes from throwing a tantrum. "Yusuke's a bit busy at the moment. Would it be easier to leave the victims near where we found them, or closer to the threshold?"

"You mean where you entered the place? Where they are now should work," Koenma said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I can't stop Kuwabara from getting himself involved in these missions, apparently, but I'd advise you to not follow his example. Stop letting Yusuke drag you into this. _Reikai_ business is not for those without psychic abilities."

"I understand, sir," Shuuichi said. "It's not something I have plans to pursue again." Plans, no, nothing so concrete. _Intentions,_ on the other hand… Koenma looked as if he did not quite believe him, but let it be.

"Well, it looks like Kuroji and Hiei are finished, so you'd better go meet up with them," he said. "Koenma, out."

Shuuichi flicked the compact closed, and turned around to see Yusuke and Kuwabara wrestling on the ground. "If you're done…"

Kuwabara yelped at a particularly vicious noogie, and Yusuke decided this was an acceptable surrender and clambered off his friend. "Well?"

"Apparently the fight's mostly over," Shuuichi reported, handing the compact back to Yusuke. "He'll send someone down to make sure everyone's safe, so we should just leave them as they are. And he doesn't want you to kidnap me for a mission again."

Yusuke laughed. "Dude, I didn't kidnap anyone. I thought you'd want to know what was going on, that's all. You invited yourself down here." He picked a direction and started walking. _With his luck, we probably_ will _stumble across some sort of exit._

"True," Shuuichi allowed. "But I think I'll allow him to believe otherwise."

"Whatever, man."

"Was your sixth sense helpful in the maze?" Shuuichi asked Kuwabara, changing the subject. "I wondered about its applications and limitations, you see."

"Maze? Nah, not a lot," Kuwabara admitted. "Took us forever to get out. Got your note, though. Urameshi said you were good at puzzles."

Shuuichi shrugged. "I'm still no fighter," he said. And gods but that needed to change. He'd been lucky, so far, and relying solely on luck was foolish to the extreme. He _would_ be fixing that. The plant angle showed definite potential, and if he coupled that with expanding his herblore…

His plans were interrupted by Yusuke. "Oh, hey, meant to ask. How'd you get into the cage, anyway? Some sort of riddle?"

"Hm?" Shuuichi hummed, still half distracted. "Oh, no, I picked the lock." It took a moment for him to realize both Yusuke and Kuwabara had stopped walking. He turned, blinking into their bewildered stares. "What? It only had five pins and wasn't rusted at all. Surprisingly simple. I suspect he wasted all his focus on the traps."

"You know how to pick locks?" Kuwabara asked, a grin creeping over his face.

"Yes. It's not an unusual skill; I wouldn't be at all surprised if Yusuke could, as well."

"Yeah, but that's _me_ ," Yusuke said, matching Kuwabara grin for grin. "Number one punk at Sarayashiki and delinquent extraordinaire."

"There are perfectly legal reasons to know how to pick locks," Shuuichi pointed out, and gestured towards the cage they were walking away from. "Freeing eleven people from slavery in a parallel dimension, for instance."

Yusuke snorted. "Like you figured out how to do that in the last half hour. Seriously, Shuuichi? You can't see how ridiculous it is that _you_ can pick locks?"

Shuuichi would _not_ let himself smile at their teasing. "Perhaps a little unexpected, but…"

"A little unexpected?" Yusuke said, slinging an arm over his shoulder with his usual lack of regard for personal space. "Mr. I-have-a-perfect-GPA-and-bake-my-mother-cookies?"

"I don't have a curfew, but it's seven o'clock so I'm going home?" Kuwabara added.

"I study high school physics in my free time because I'm actually a nerd?" Yusuke suggested.

"We shouldn't play video games for much longer because it'll strain our eyes," Kuwabara said. His voice cracked, and all three of them broke, giddy with something: Shuuichi with the success and adrenaline of this first, real mission, Kuwabara with relief that the people they hadn't even known they were saving would be okay, and Yusuke with the end of the frustration and helplessness he'd been feeling ever since he'd landed in that maze. Kuroji and Hiei found them five minutes later, still laughing and utterly incapable of explaining why.

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Shuuichi's friendship makes me so happy. Kuronue and Hiei's alliance/sort-of-friendship also makes me so happy. I'm really proud of this chapter. I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write.

Also, I am really bad at naming characters for fanfiction. Everything has to be a reference. In this case, Watanabe is the last name of the Japanese voice actor who plays Shippou in Inu-Yasha. I needed another fox...

Thing I forgot or wasn't clear in the last chapter: Hiei's incapacitation was meant to be a result of him rushing in and attacking rather than attempting the riddle. Think the fight with Kaito, where Hiei directly attacks, and when that doesn't work, deliberately challenges Kaito's "rules." Hence walking right into the illusion trap and getting caught in his own head.

* * *

 **Review Replies!**

Whatever was wrong last week has finally fixed itself. Yay~!

 **Fox:** Eeee, I'm so glad my word games work well. One of the best parts about Kurama is how scary-manipulative he is. Psychological warfare and word games and nudging people so they react exactly how he wants them to and uuuuuggggh. Scary, scary guy. But so much fun to write. And yep, Hiei can be stupidly stubborn sometimes. All of them can be, really...

 **Guest:** So, you almost made me cry happy tears of _I'm so glad this is actually working_. I mean, I feel like it's better written but it's always so nice to hear it and I had a rough day when you reviewed. Eurgh. I'm glad each chapter makes you want to read more, and that my characterization of Shuuichi makes sense to you, and that sliding Kuroji onto the team actually does work. I don't want him to just "replace" Kurama because they're not the same person, so shuffling some things around was required. I'm glad it still feels natural. Honestly, though? Thank you _so much_ for your review.

See you all next week!


	13. Interlude

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Alexithymia (origin Greek):_ (n.) the inability to express your feelings

* * *

 **Chapter 13: Interlude**

* * *

 _In Which There is a Breath of Peace_

* * *

Maaya caught up to Shuuichi just before he left the schoolyard, linking arms with easy familiarity. "Walk me to my train?" she asked, leaning her head briefly on his shoulder and already tugging him in that direction.

Shuuichi disentangled their arms and held out one hand for her bag. "Of course," he said with a smile. "I take it it's still the same stop?"

"Yes." She surrendered her bag with a polite nod of thanks, tucking a few loose, dark strands of hair behind her ear. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Shuuichi taking the opportunity to study his friend from the corner of his eye. A pretty girl about his own age, Maaya had grown her hair out since their middle school days and pierced her ears. Otherwise, she hadn't changed much, Shuuichi considered with a rush of fond nostalgia.

Which reminded him… "Was your expedition this weekend a success?" he asked, careful to keep his voice as light and teasingly skeptical as it had always been. Maaya had been fascinated—almost obsessed—with the occult long before they had first met, often dragging Shuuichi on amateur ghost hunts and ignoring his skepticism with admirable determination. He had always insisted that he'd believe in ghosts and spirits and all the rest the instant she gave him irrefutable proof—and hadn't there been enough of that lately? He'd met a _kitsune_ last week, after all…

"Well, I thought I got an interesting voice recording, but it turned out to be a passing train," Maaya huffed, crossing her arms.

"Not the screams of the damned forced to wander the Earth for all eternity?" Shuuichi asked. She scowled, and swatted at his arm. "Mercy!" he laughed, ducking away.

"I don't care how skeptical you are, I _know_ there's something out there!" she insisted, frustration raising spots of pink on her cheeks.

"Yes, yes…" That was the problem, wasn't it? He'd thought it a harmless, if strange, hobby before, but what would happen when Maaya encountered a genuine spirit? Or worse, a _youkai_? Well, normal humans couldn't see them, so it was unlikely she'd recognize an encounter in the first place. Hence the electronic equipment common to "ghost-busters."

Though there was a thought… Could EMF meters detect _reiki_? It was a form of energy, after all, and a good EMF meter could pick up the slightest energy field. That might explain why they were used so often to investigate hauntings, and it might be a good way to practice on his own, without needing to harass Kuwabara. However accommodating the younger teen had been, and however much fine practice it gave his sixth sense, Shuuichi was well aware his perfectionism tended to drive any partner he had crazy.

The pair walked another block in silence. "So is the failed investigation the reason you look so stressed, or is there something else wrong?" Shuuichi asked as they waited for the light to change.

Maaya hesitated. "Are you sure I shouldn't be asking you that?" she said finally, dark eyes lifting to study his face. "You've been… different, lately."

Shuuichi winced, thinking of the way Yusuke had snuck up on him, and the dismal notes he had taken in his classes today. He couldn't concentrate, felt restless, though he had no idea why. "I have been unforgivably distracted," he admitted. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"No, that's not what I meant." Shuuichi raised one eyebrow in a silent prompt to continue. Maaya pushed her hair behind her ear again and bit her lip. "Look, I know you don't believe in the paranormal, but… you _feel_ different. Almost…" She hesitated again, searching for the right word. "Dangerous."

"Oh." Oh, dear. That he had not expected. "Dangerous? Really?"

"Sharper? Heavier? Wilder," Maaya tried. Her eyes unfocused, almost as if she were looking through him rather than at him. "Not in a bad way, really. And it's not the first time, either. I've always thought you were a bit unusual, but now… now it's all the time, not tastes and hints and flashes." She groaned in frustration, shaking her head. The light changed, and they joined the flow of people crossing the street. "How do you describe color to a blind man?"

"For the sake of our friendship, I'll ignore that you just called me blind," Shuuichi said with as much exaggerated, put-upon dignity he could muster while only paying half the attention he should. Maaya might have noticed his increase in _reiki_ —Kuwabara had described Yusuke as dangerous, after all—but that meant that, first, his attempts at training had been much more effective than they'd seemed, and second (and of greater concern), Maaya was at least as spiritually aware as Kuwabara. Which was _bad._

So far, Maaya had been lucky enough to not encounter anything dangerous, but that would not continue if she had a sixth sense. She was better defended than he was, in that she possessed the instincts that would guide her away from danger, but given her past explorations it was unlikely she'd listen to them. _I have far more sense than she does, and look at the supernatural trouble_ I've _managed to find…_

"To answer your question, Maaya, I'm all right. Truly," he said, conscience twingeing with guilt at his hypocrisy, guilt that he put to one side. If Maaya was a budding psychic, there were a few things he could do— _would_ do, for one of his only friends in this world. Unfortunately for his conscience, none of them involved jeopardizing his already tense and tenuous relationship with _Reikai_ by telling Maaya the truth or encouraging her to seek answers as he had. Yet. "I can't think of a reason I might feel dangerous to you."

Maaya gave him the same narrow-eyed scowl she always did when she suspected he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Really?"

"I am the same person I have always been."

"All right." Maaya sighed, accepting that he wasn't going to tell her. "As you insist." They crossed the last street, pausing outside the train stop. "Oh, hey. Do you want to catch a movie on Saturday?" she asked as he returned her school bag. "There's a new horror movie out that's supposed to be good."

"You do know my weaknesses," Shuuichi hummed. A normal weekend sounded wonderful, and might give him some motivation to actually focus in school. He'd never needed it before, but sitting in a classroom had been difficult lately, when he'd been helping to dismantle a cross-dimensional slavery ring only a few days previously. Perhaps he should talk to Yusuke and Kuwabara about managing the contrast between normal life and their extracurricular activities… _Or perhaps I'm just overthinking things as usual._ "Barring unforeseen circumstances, yes," Shuuichi agreed. "I'd like to."

"Unforeseen circumstances—you always say that!" Maaya protested, but she'd relaxed and was smiling at him. "Text me if anything changes, then."

"Of course," Shuuichi promised, and smiled again. "I'll see you in school tomorrow?"

"Yeah!" Maaya waved, and disappeared down the stairs of her train stop.

As Shuuichi turned around, a flash of black and a glint of silver caught his eye, gone when he tried to look more closely. He paused, weighing his options—and with a resigned shake of his head, slipped into a nearby coffee shop. When given the opportunity, he might as well take it.

Fifteen minutes later, Shuuichi walked back out holding two cups of americano, one with cream, one untouched. "Unfortunately," he said, voice as casual as if he were speaking to an old friend standing right next to him, "I don't actually know how you take your coffee, Kuroji. If you want cream or sugar, I'd come get it while we're still close to the store."

A minute passed. Two. Just before he started to get frustrated, a hand reached out to snag the undoctored coffee. "Black as my soul," Kuroji said, and took a quick sip. He sighed. "More proof Watanabe was an idiot. Forget human trafficking, the instant this stuff hits the black market, my fortune is made."

Shuuichi laughed. "Should an upstanding member of the law enforcement such as yourself really be talking so casually about smuggling?"

Kuroji shrugged. "Yusuke's the only one on payroll. Technically, I'm on probation for theft. Armed robbery, I suppose. _Reikai_ would never hire a _youkai._ "

"Does that make Yusuke your parole officer?" Shuuichi wondered, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"For the sake of their security, I hope not." Kuroji gave an exaggerated shudder. Shuuichi laughed.

It was comfortable to talk to Kuroji like this, bantering back and forth as if they'd known each other for ages. Shouldn't he feel a bit more unsettled, knowing Kuroji was a _youkai,_ and having seen him kill ten people as easily and thoughtlessly as breathing? It was strange how strange it wasn't…

"Didn't know you had a girlfriend, by the way."

"I don't," Shuuichi said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Though she used to be. Just friends, now."

"Friends with an ex?" Kuroji whistled. "I never could manage that. Congrats."

"The break was mutual and over a year ago. Middle school romance, so it wasn't as if we were serious anyway," he explained with a shrug. "And she prefers girls." Shuuichi debated mentioning that he didn't seem to prefer anyone, but discarded the idea. His usual lack of sexual interest was irrelevant.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I can see how that would be a problem." No comments about how effeminate he looked? That was a surprise, though a pleasant one. They walked together in silence for a while. "So," Kuroji finally said, "Do you always buy an extra coffee to offer to thin air, or did you know I was around?"

"Around," Shuuichi said, rolling the word around his mouth as he thought. "Is that what they're calling stalking these days?"

Kuroji looked faintly uncomfortable. "Um."

"You've been following me off and on ever since the incident with the Makai insects," Shuuichi said, glancing at him. "On orders from Reikai?"

"Your timing is a bit off," Kuroji said.

Shuuichi nodded, acknowledging the point. "An educated guess. I'm not quite arrogant enough to think I noticed as soon as you started following me."

"How did you notice in the first place?" Kuroji asked, moving closer to Shuuichi to avoid a passerby, so that their sleeves brushed.

"I am both very clever and very paranoid," Shuuichi said, firmly telling himself he was not disappointed when Kuroji stepped back again. "And don't think I haven't noticed you didn't answer my question. Avoidance is a cheap tactic, and it won't work on me."

Kuroji grinned. "I suppose I should have known that. Yeah, around your second lesson with Kuwabara, Koenma asked me to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"Tampering with forces beyond my ken and control?" Shuuichi asked. That wasn't the whole story. Not every budding psychic ended up with a tail. And why set one of his detectives to track him, if it were really so benevolent?

"Something like that." Kuroji said, sounding amused. "Oh, I know that face. You're _thinking_ again. I might go so far as to call it _plotting_."

"No, not at all!" he protested, giving Kuroji a bright, innocent smile they both knew to be a total fabrication. "I've a present for you, and I was wondering how best to give it to you."

"Oh no, now I'm really worried…"

Stepping out of the flow of people to pause close to a store-front, Shuuichi dug through his school bag for his keys with his free hand. Of course they had worked their way to the bottom—"Ah-ha!" He hooked his fingers around the keyring, pulled them out in a jangle of metal, and began detaching a particular key chain. This he tossed to Kuroji, who caught it with one skeptical eyebrow raised. "I couldn't find what I wanted in a shop," he said, as Kuroji inspected the charm. "So I made it."

Long fingers spun the small origami figure around and around. "A black crane?"

"Yes," Shuuichi said, stepping back into the crowd. Kuroji followed. "Black is obviously your color."

"And a crane because…?" His voice had gone tighter, and when Shuuichi half turned to face him, his eyes were far colder than he'd ever seen.

 _Step carefully, Minamino._ As familiar and casual as Kuroji was, he was inhuman. Dangerous. Wild. "You're looking for someone, right? Superstition or not, I thought some luck might be welcome." He looked up to meet Kuroji's indigo-blue eyes, letting what he wasn't saying show in his expression. _I know who you really are, or at least have a very good guess. And if_ I _can figure it out, others can, too. Others may have already. Be careful._

Kuroji stared at him for a moment that stretched through eternity, spinning the key chain around one finger, faster and faster. Shuuichi remembered the glitter of light off deadly scythes spun the same way, and swallowed. Finally, Kuroji flicked the keychain into his palm, fingers curling around it with something that almost looked tender. He shook his head with a quiet laugh. "You really need to be more careful, kid," he said finally, eyes lightening with playful mischief. "You're damned lucky I like you. There're plenty of _youkai_ who'd never stand for a stunt like that."

"Of course," Shuuichi agreed. He'd already dodged one bullet today, and informing him he'd never have tried it if he hadn't been sure Kuroji liked him would probably be pushing his luck.

Kuroji veered away to trash his empty coffee cup and returned, hands deep in his pockets. Encouraged (he could have chosen to leave, considering how tense the conversation had turned and the high possibility that he had been offended), Shuuichi finally voiced a question he'd been itching to ask since the imposter debacle.

"Tell me about him?"

This earned a raised eyebrow, but Kuroji didn't insult his intelligence by pretending to not know who he was talking about. "Why do you want to know?"

"Do you mean _why are you asking_ or do you mean _why do I want to know_?" Shuuichi asked.

Kuroji gave him a disgruntled look. "Word games? Really?" Shuuichi shrugged, unrepentant. "Both."

"Well, I want to know because I'm curious and you interest me and he is clearly important to you. But I'm asking because you want to talk about him, and I'm willing to listen."

"Has anyone told you you're trouble?" Kuroji sighed, and his shoulders curved down as if a winter breeze had blown through that only he could feel. Shuuichi waited patiently. Silence now would get him what he wanted.

When Kuroji finally spoke, it felt honest. Most of his brashness had drained away, leaving an odd sort of vulnerability that made Shuuichi ache. He'd been right; Kuroji needed this. "I keep thinking _of course._ That of everyone I've ever known, _of course_ he's the one who'd figure out how to cheat death. He was— _is_ —the sort of contrary bastard who'd do the impossible just because someone said it couldn't be done." Kuroji sighed, a smile caught between nostalgia and grief hovering around his lips. "If he were any less clever, he'd have gotten himself killed twenty times over with how many risks he took. He stole for the thrill more than anything else—though he was definitely greedy. He didn't let anything go. Ever. Whether it was an idea or a grudge." Kuroji laughed. "We didn't fight often, but when we did—oh, man. Gods forbid he ever be wrong. He apologized like a child. Wouldn't look at me, mumbling the actual words, ears pinned back… It was the cutest thing, and he'd have shredded me if I ever told him that."

Shuuichi stifled a laugh, loath to interrupt. Kuroji was rambling, and it was (dare he?) _sweet_ to watch.

Kuroji cleared his throat. "That said, he was paranoid and arrogant and absolutely _terrifying_ on more than one occasion. I can think of more than one _youkai_ who'd ally with him just so they wouldn't have to fight him." He shrugged. "I'm his best friend now, but we weren't always so close." Kuroji cocked an eyebrow in Shuuichi's direction. "You know, he'd probably hate you."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're the sort who has to be the smartest person in the room," Kuroji said. It would have sounded accusing if he hadn't been grinning. "You can't stand being wrong, or made a fool of. He's the exact same way." Kuroji sighed, sounding almost wistful. "It'd be the cat-fight of the century."

Shuuichi had to stop walking, he was laughing so hard. "You have the strangest tastes, Kuro," he managed.

"I'm telling you, it'd be epic! He'd either rose-whip you apart or take you on as an apprentice, but it'd be _so_ worth it."

Waving one hand in a plea for mercy, Shuuichi shook his head. A small part of him filed the notion of a whip away to try for himself: he'd recognized from the beginning that roses could make devastating weapons, and had been practicing with them as a sort of throwing knife, but a whip sounded _so_ much more effective. If, of course, Kuroji didn't kill him for borrowing the attack. Most of him, though, was trying to breathe without choking. Kuroji helpfully slapped his back, until Shuuichi twisted away to give him a very half-hearted glare, still giggly and pink cheeked.

"I know I'm funny, but it really wasn't _that_ funny, kid," Kuroji said, though he was grinning and looked more relaxed than Shuuichi had ever seen him.

"Of course not," Shuuichi agreed, struggling to regain control of his face. He took a deep breath, then another, and changed the subject. "Do you have any ideas of how he might have survived?"

Kuroji shrugged, eyes cutting away from his face. "None. I mean… I'm not surprised he figured out a way to survive, but that doesn't mean I know what the hell he was thinking. SDF are the best, and…" His eyes went distant again, hardly seeing the residential street in front of him. "There was a lot of blood. If he survived that, I don't know what state he'd be in now. I don't want to imagine him in that kind of pain…" He sighed, heavily, and dragged his attention back to the present. "I'm trying to trace his _ki_ , but he's always been good at hiding. And when a fox goes to ground, no one's going to find 'em until they _want_ to be found. Especially Kurama."

Shuuichi nodded. "Well, when you find him, will you introduce us?"

Kuroji snorted, and shook his head. "When he finds me, more like… But yeah, kid. Whatever."

"Thank you." Shuuichi stopped at the park on the corner of his street. "Do you trust me to get home by myself, or are you going to walk me to my front door?"

"Because your mother will be thrilled to see her son hanging out with my disreputable self," Kuroji said, sounding more amused than anything else. _Good, as long as he doesn't sound so… defeated._

"Your sarcasm is appreciated," Shuuichi said dryly. "If you're going to continue stalking me, though, you might as well come to dinner."

Kuroji shook his head. "Nah, I really should be back at the bar." He hesitated. "I'll… take you up on that, though? When I look less like your dealer."

Shuuichi tried not to grin. "You own respectable clothing?"

"Brat. I'll have you know I clean up very nicely." Kuroji laughed, and tossed a casual wave over his shoulder as he left. "See you around, Shuuichi."

Shuuichi watched him saunter away, feeling strangely… unsettled, like a part of him was tying itself into a knot, and another part just wanted to go after him. He'd have to consider that later, after he'd finished the homework waiting in his bag. He'd stayed longer than he'd meant to at school; the sun was beginning to go down, and the park had long since emptied of even the most rambunctious children.

Someone had abandoned a doll by the swings. Even though its jumper was discolored with age and its face was half in the mud, Shuuichi suspected some child would be missing their doll before too long. With a vague idea of cleaning it up and setting it on the wall where it would be more noticeable, Shuuichi left his school bag propped against the support for the swing and went to pick it up. It was older than he'd thought, the sort of vintage baby doll with a puckered mouth and closed eyes. Half its hair was missing.

There was a step behind him, and a voice, whiny and plaintive: "That's _mine._ "

"Sorry," he said, lifting the doll to offer it to its owner, charming smile at the ready to placate the irritated child. "I just thought she might be happier sitting up."

The doll's eyes slid open as it shifted, showing not blue plastic or glass, as he would have expected, but flat, polished mirrors. Startled (and mentally categorizing the doll as _creepy, get rid of it_ ), Shuuichi tried to give the doll back—

—and found he couldn't move.

 _Oh,_ he thought vaguely, blinking down at mirrored green eyes. _That will be a problem._

"Mine," he heard again. Except no, how had he not noticed something was wrong, the voice was almost a man's…

And the world went black.

* * *

 **A Note on this chapter:**

More fun and ironic banter between Kuronue and Shuuichi. With a little bit of possible flirting? The name "Kuronue," by the way, is written with the characters for "Black Crane" from what I know (mostly from fanfiction, so it may very well be wrong). I really can't help myself with the dramatic irony in this situation... Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's so _fun_ when you know something the characters don't.

There were one or two early questions about Maaya and what I had planned for her; I think this should answer those. Childhood friends, dated briefly a few years ago, mutual break, still buddies. A lot of people are jealous of Maaya, I'm sure. Their relationship is hilarious in my head. Very Mulder and Scully, if you know or watch X-Files... Which I don't, but it's the closest analogue I can think of. This is one of the plot bunnies I intend to eventually scribble for this 'verse.

Also included is another headcanon, this one from the very end of a fic entitled _Shireru_ by Ms. Zeal. Lovely emotional fic with a happy ending, in which Shiori finds out about the whole _youkai_ thing. Highly recommend, it can be found in my favorites if you're curious. Relevant headcanon was that Kurama isn't attracted to humans (short exchange in the last or next-to-last chapter of the fic about why he never dates any of the girls who have expressed interest). And I kind of went "Oh, that makes as much sense as anything else, I like it." Shuuichi here, though, doesn't know he's not human and has thus _misinterpreted this_ as asexuality. I want to make the difference very clear because asexuality is often attached to inhuman characters as an aspect of their inhumanity, and that is _not what I am doing._ It's a throwaway line here because it is irrelevant to the rest of the conversation, and it doesn't really come up in the rest of this fic. It is something I might explore in later fic for this 'verse, though, once I have a better idea of a plot for the sequel, or the inclination to actually sit down and scribble those interlude plot-bunnies.

Finally, yep. Yep, that's a cliffhanger. This one will get resolved next chapter, at least, so.. be patient, you only have to wait a week? This, by the way, is the second original "mission" I'm sending our boys on, and it'll be wrapped up much more quickly.

I'm getting more and more nervous as we approach final confrontation and Important Scenes, because I know everyone is eagerly awaiting "the reveal" and I'm really hoping it's not disappointing. (I'm in the Merlin fandom, too. I know all about disappointing reveals; and that's a rant for another day and another platform, to be honest.) Basically, I really hope it lives up to your expectations and that it doesn't wind up being a let down. There's only a handful more chapters left, so you know it's coming soon!

* * *

 **Review Replies!**

I had no anonymous reviews last chapter, so I'll just give a quick shoutout to all my signed in reviewers: **TiaKay, Zolata, samjok-o,** and **Unita** , thank you so much for your continued support!

If you liked the chapter or want to speculate about what I have planned, please leave a review! They're always welcome.


	14. Doll

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Lacuna_ _(origin Latin):_ (n.) a blank space, a missing part

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Doll**

* * *

 _In Which Our Thief Finds His Treasure and Our Traveller Finds His Way_

* * *

 _"Do you have any idea how he survived?"_ Shuuichi had asked, and Kuronue had had to shake his head and admit he didn't. On reflection, he also had to admit it was a very good question. It'd been almost a month since he'd found out Kurama was still alive, and he was no closer to finding him than he had been on top of that church. Trying to trace him via _ki_ was about as useful as a match in a cave: a great idea at first, but without something more substantial to build on it wouldn't be very helpful for very long. And yeah, sure, he hadn't expected it to be _easy,_ but he had the nasty, sinking feeling that he was going about this all wrong.

So _ki_ wasn't working. _Reikai_ sure as hell wasn't working, either, considering Koenma had reopened Kurama's file—and that _should_ have worked, but didn't. No way was Kurama hiding in _Reikai,_ and Kuronue doubted he was in _Ningenkai,_ which left only _Makai_ … except Kuronue did not fancy his chances of disappearing across the _kekkai_ when he was supposed to be working for Koenma _._ He did not want "Kuroji" joining his "big brother" on _Reikai's Most Wanted._ But the only step forward he could see was going back to the den and seeing if he couldn't find a clue… Kuronue leaned his cheek on one hand, little finger tracing the bar through his eyebrow.

 _Do you have any idea how he survived?_

After Kurama had gone down, Kuronue's memories got a little fuzzy and mainly consisted of blood and bone and flesh and a lot of screaming. He'd been carried through that fight by a pounding fury and a refusal to die—the grief didn't hit until hours after he'd carried Kurama home, while he was watching his hands tie off the last bandage covering bloody burns and skin charred black. He'd known of course that it was useless, that he couldn't _fix this,_ but all he could really think was how irritated Kurama would be if those scarred. His head had felt loose for weeks, like it wasn't real, like it was just some nightmare he'd wake up from…

Demons didn't have hearts, so they didn't have heartbeats, but Kuonue hadn't needed to take a pulse to know Kurama was gone, not when he'd felt his _ki_ disappear even as he rounded on the SDF to take revenge. Kuronue had walked away from the den that had been home and the corpse that had been the friend he'd fallen silently in love with. After that, he'd done his damnedest to disappear. Kurama was dead. Except now he wasn't.

Too many thoughts chased themselves in circles through Kuronue's head, and his fingers moved from his piercing to his temple, rubbing at the seed of the headache there. _Reikai_ never collected Kurama's soul, and this meant he was still alive. So Koenma claimed, anyway. Could he be a ghost…? No, the mirror couldn't lie, and it had said Kurama was alive. So, not a ghost. Right?

What, _exactly,_ had that stupid piece of glass said? _The_ youko _yet lives._ And it had shown him Kurama, the version he'd been the only one lucky enough to see—relaxed and smiling at him like they were sharing some joke. So it wasn't tricking him, talking about some other _youko_. _The_ youko _yet lives… but he is much changed. I wonder if even you would recognize him as he is now._ Which sounded like he was hurt. Badly hurt. And he had been, that last attack by the SDF—

Kuronue's mind screeched to a halt. Wait. _Wait._ The mirror said Kurama was alive. He'd thought that meant that Kurama had never died, but that wasn't what it had said. It said he was alive. He'd thought he'd been wrong, that he must have missed some small sign of life and had left his Kurama to recover alone in the den while he'd gone off and faked his own death because he didn't want to deal with being alive. He'd thought he'd effectively abandoned the person most important to him in all the three worlds because he'd been too _stupid_ to see that he'd survived.

But what if. What if, what if, what _if_ he'd been _right_? He couldn't feel Kurama's _ki—_ his spirit, his soul—he hadn't been able to feel it at all in the den, and when had _Kurama_ ever hidden from _him_? Which meant that last attack _had_ killed him. But he was alive _now_ , which meant—which meant—what did it mean?

"KUROJI!"

Kuronue leapt up, banged both knees on his bar, and might have recovered if one of his ankles hadn't gotten tangled around the leg of the stool, sending him crashing sideways. His tailbone hit the edge of the stool he'd been sitting on; his shoulder hit the support of the stool next to him; his back hit the floor, and he stared up at the ceiling of his bar trying to catch his breath and remember if he'd done something _that_ undignified at any point in the last three decades. He wondered whether or not Kurama would agree that this topped that one time with the hat and the fish. He could hear Yusuke and Kuwabara laughing, and when he pushed himself up on his elbows, even _Hiei_ had cracked a smile. It looked very out-of-place and almost scarier than his standard smirk, but it was definitely a smile.

Botan was trying and failing to look severe. "Well," she said through giggles. "I guess that answers the question of if you were listening."

"Um." Kuronue wheezed. "Wanna run that by me again?" He cleared his throat, and clambered back onto the stool. "Sorry, spacing out."

"Spacing out? You were practically on Mars," Yusuke muttered, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. It would have been insulting, if Kuronue didn't know he was just worried, so he just shrugged and gave him a crooked half-smile.

"We were _talking_ about the escapee that Koenma wants you to track down," Botan said as she gestured towards the screen-in-a-briefcase _Reikai_ somehow thought was modern technology.

Kuronue blinked at the picture. "That's... a baby doll."

"It's his _weapon,_ " Yusuke said, tone caught between sarcasm and glee.

"Yes," Botan said, glaring sharply at Yusuke. "It _is._ And it's extremely dangerous, so please take this seriously!"

"Um, Botan?" Kuwabara put his hand up like they were in class. "I still don't understand. I mean, it looks pretty creepy, 'specially with the freaky mirrors, but what's so dangerous about it?"

The _shinigami_ heaved a sigh. "Horikawa uses it to control people. He locks them in their own minds, leaving their bodies as living dolls for him to manipulate."

Yusuke didn't look amused any longer. "How does that happen?"

Botan grimaced. "You know the cliché _the eyes are the windows to the soul_? If the victim—especially the victim's eyes—are reflected in the doll's eyes, Horikawa has an opening. In theory, he could remove the soul entirely, but that technically kills them. Instead, he leaves the soul intact but traps the victim's will and mentality within themselves, leaving them unaware of either the outside world or their body, and letting Horikawa control them. He escaped today, so he _probably_ hasn't had time to…" she scrunched up her nose with disgust. "Start a collection yet."

"Okay, so where is the skeevy bastard?" Yusuke asked, arms folded on the bar.

"There's an old, half burnt down doll factory on the edge of town," Botan said, closing the briefcase with a firm _click._ "It shouldn't take long to get there by bus."

"I'll walk," Hiei said, his cloak swirling around his ankles as he hopped off the bar stool and started for the stairs. "I killed someone there, I know where it is." And he was gone.

"Well, that was creepy," Yusuke said the same way anyone else might say _And this is my friend John, he's an accountant._ "Though can _you_ imagine him on a bus? Doll factory, huh? I'm sensing a theme."

"I'm telling you, Urameshi, he's going to snap and kill us both some day…" Kuwabara grumbled under his breath, but led the way up the stairs anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. Look, Kuwabara, if he hasn't killed you yet, I don't think he's going to. And if he did decide to kill you, I'm not sure there's much you could do to stop him."

"Oi!"

Kuronue hung back to walk out with Botan, his mind racing. "Hey, Botan… You said that removing a soul kills the body?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah," she said. "But souls don't last long without bodies, only about twenty-four hours."

 _So definitely not fifteen years…_ "But ghosts…?"

"Ghosts aren't pure souls. They're like pseudo-bodies made of _reiki,_ so they don't count. Souls are kind of stupid, actually," she said, putting a finger to her lips in thought, " _Ningen_ or _youkai_. They're pure instinct, driven solely by the need to get back to their bodies. They don't have any sort of consciousness at all. Death is the only way a soul can leave the body without becoming a ghost, and any time the soul leaves the body without becoming a ghost, it's dead. Kind of chicken-or-egg."

"What about something like the Rapacious Orb, or whatever this Horikawa is doing?" Kuronue asked. "Doesn't that remove the soul without killing the body?"

Botan frowned. "Yes and no… Like I said, removing the soul is the _definition_ of death. The Rapacious Orb removes souls without damaging the body, so even though the body is technically dead, if the soul is retrieved and replaced, then they're restored, no problems, no questions asked—though the paperwork gives Koenma- _sama_ a migraine," she added with a laugh. "Their records register the disconnect between body and soul as death, so they stop recording. He has to go through and restart each one individually."

"Wait—" Kuronue started, but Botan had reached the bus stop and was trying to pry Yusuke and Kuwabara apart. From what he could hear, they were arguing over bus-fares.

Kuronue leaned against the plasti-glass wall of the rain shelter and started thinking again. He barely registered the bus's arrival or their group getting on. He was so tantalizingly close to solving this puzzle once and for all. He could make out the shape of the thing, now, was grasping it just by his fingertips.

If death was defined by the link between body and soul breaking, then Kurama had died. His soul was never collected, which meant he had either disappeared after twenty-four hours, or he had somehow found his way back to his body, or…

…or found a new one?

Kurama's body had been badly damaged. It wouldn't have healed quickly enough for that to be a viable option. _And if that link had been restored,_ Kuronue realized, a thrill of discovery racing up his spine, _then Kurama's file would have automatically started recording again when Koenma reopened it. But if the link was different—same soul, different body—then the spell wouldn't have been able to find him, because that link was still broken. So it wouldn't be_ able _to start recording again. Kurama, you fucking genius_.

And the mirror! _I doubt even you will recognize him as he is now._ So Kurama wasn't badly injured or unrecognizably scarred, but in an entirely new body… However he'd managed it. Possession? Had to be possession, right? What else could it be?

"Botan," Kuronue said abruptly, making her jump. Yusuke and Kuwabara were looking at him with some concern, having noticed how out of it he'd been, but he ignored them. "You said all souls are stupid, just instinct, right?"

"Well, not _all_ souls," she admitted. "Inhabitants of _Reikai_ are practically half-spirit under usual circumstances. Our souls can last a little longer outside of the body, and we maintain a sort of consciousness."

The bus was strangely hot, though his hands were shaking and goose bumps were tracing their way up his arms. Almost like he was feverish. Kuronue stared at Botan, wet his lips. "But that's… that's _just_ inhabitants of _Reikai_? No _youkai_ or _ningen_ has ever maintained consciousness while a soul?" _Please disagree, please disagree—it's the only thing I can think of that fits, it makes sense, pleasepleaseplease just give me this much!_

"Nope!" Botan said cheerfully. Ice closed around Kuronue's throat. "That's about right. Why?"

Kuronue didn't answer, just slumped back in his seat and leaned his head against the window, tapping his lower lip with his thumb. "No, nothing, just… just an idea."

It didn't make _sense._ Everything else fit. But Kurama was a _youkai_. It wouldn't have worked.

 _I must still be missing something…_

* * *

The nearly full moon was directly overhead as their small group left the woods and approached the run down factory. A shadow peeled away from the wall as the three boys (Botan having opted to stay at the bus stop for safety reasons) approached, crossing to block their path through the massive hole in the dilapidated wall. A few years ago, it might have been the door.

"Detective," Hiei said. One part greeting, one part warning.

"Hiei? What's up?"

Hiei's eyes flickered over the rest of their group, before returning to Yusuke. "There's been a complication."

Oh, no. Hiei was the sort given to understatement. What he called a complication could be anything from twenty armed lackeys to an interdimensional portal. Or, hopefully, Kuronue was letting his imagination run away from him. Again.

Yusuke seemed to pick up on this, because he looked at Hiei for several seconds, weighing him in silence—except then he shrugged, shoved his hands in his pockets, and moved past him towards the gaping void that was the entrance of the factory. "Well, we're going to have to sort it out anyway, aren't we? Complicated or not."

On the one hand, he had a point. On the other… Kuronue sighed and stalked after him, catching up easily. "Don't look the doll in the eyes," he reminded him. "The last thing we need is to be fighting you."

"Eh, Hiei could handle it. Hells, you probably could."

"Neither of us are accustomed to pulling blows while fighting for our lives," Kuronue pointed out with a wry grin. "With _youkai,_ if you worry about the health of your opponent, you usually wind up dead. Just… do us all a favor and don't get mind-jacked, okay?"

"I'm not sure Urameshi has enough mind to get jacked," Kuwabara said from behind them in a blatant attempt to lighten the atmosphere. It didn't really work. It was almost midnight, and they were in a ruined, burnt out husk of a doll-making factory chasing after a demon who mind-controlled people and used a _doll_ to do it. The floor was scattered with misshapen lumps that on second glance were burned corpses and on third glance were half-destroyed dolls. Weeds and grass were already forcing their way up through the tile floor—the vanguard of Nature as she reclaimed the space for her own. It would be creepy enough during the day. At night, lit by moonlight and with the shifting shadows giving the illusion of movement to things that almost looked human…

"Uncanny valley, much?" Kuronue muttered, taking a step. The last few fingers of a charred hand crumbled under his boot.

"Not sure what that is, but if you mean let's get this over with and get the hell out of here, I agree," Kuwabara said. The entire place felt deserted.

Yusuke squared his shoulders and started forward purposefully. "We know he's here, so let's just go find him already."

Hiei tsked, sliding past them. "There's a manager's office on the second floor," he said. "Horikawa is holed up there." There was a beat of silence. "With his newest doll."

"He has a hostage?" Kuronue asked. The group moved forward together, Hiei and Kuronue almost silent, while Kuwabara and Yusuke (lacking the experience of professional thieves) at least had the sense to watch their step and move as quietly as they could manage. "That's your complication?"

"Yes. I couldn't see them properly, but there were definitely two people in there, one of them Horikawa." A sneer of disgust flicked across the shorter _youkai_ 's face. "He seemed to be fairly friendly with the second person."

Yusuke cracked his knuckles. "Let's crash the party, then." He reached the stairs to the second floor, kicked them once, twice, and the wooden panel broke. Probably not a good idea to use them, then. Yusuke glanced back at their little party, shrugged, and turned back towards the stairs. From here, they could just barely see a sturdy door with a soot-stained glass window, peeling letters printed across it. "Oi, Horikawa!" Yusuke bellowed. A startled owl hooted outside. Kuronue clapped both hands over his ears. "Come out and surrender and I won't beat your ass before I hand you over to Reikai!"

Kuronue uncovered his ears carefully, and shot the detective a nasty look. "Some warning next time would be nice," he said. Kuwabara snickered.

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and their target peered around it's edge, bottom lip poking out in an unmistakable pout. "Come back later," he ordered, voice pitched high and petulant and childish. "I'm playing Midnight at the Ball right now. We'll play Prince Fights Bandits later."

Kuronue raised one eyebrow. Whatever touchstone to reality this guy had had, he'd lost it years ago.

"Well, we're playing Bring in the Bad Guy," Yusuke said, pointing towards Horikawa, the fingers of his other hand wrapped around his wrist in support. "And you know what?" he added as the tip of his finger started to glow. "I think we're winning."

The wall next to Horikawa's head exploded in a shower of splinters and mold. The _youkai_ squawked and slammed the door shut. Kuronue whistled through his teeth. "Man, I'm sorry I missed the fight against Suzaku. You've gotten a lot stronger, Yusuke."

"Thanks. I'm going to yell again." Kuronue stepped quickly away. "And that's just a taste, so get down here with your little princess or whatever, or we'll come up there!"

The door inched open again, and Horikawa sidled out sideways, flinching every so often. One arm cradled a dirty old doll to his chest, the other hand clenched and unclenched spasmodically, finding the wall, then the banister to clutch at as he ventured down the stairs. "I don't _want_ to go into time out again," he protested. "My prince is _going_ to protect me from all of you." In the moonlight, Horikawa was… pathetic. Pathetic was the word he was looking for, Kuronue decided, taking in the way his ragged clothes hung on a stick thin frame, hair lank and matted and maybe brown once it was clean, dirt and mud smeared on his face. He looked to be about Kuronue's age, with pointed ears and claws.

Kuronue blinked, and Hiei was standing beside Horikawa, sword resting just lightly against the skin under his Adam's apple.

"Hey, Hiei—" Yusuke started, sympathy lacing his voice, but trailed off when Kuronue put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, no." He'd noticed what Kuronue had.

Horikawa seemed supremely unconcerned by naked steel touching a very important vein. He only tilted his head sideways, looking down at Hiei through thoughtfully narrowed eyes… and giggled. The movement made the sword dig in enough to send blood trickling down his throat. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Horikawa singsonged, turning the doll and tickling under its chin, just like it was a real baby. "If I die, the prince is trapped forever in the high tower, always mine, and you'll want him back, won't you? Someone wants him, I know. So pretty, inside and out—pretty, pretty, twisty mind! Twisty mind, all mine, all mine!" Another giggle.

Kuwabara backed away, almost in spite of himself. "Urameshi… there's something off about this guy."

"No _fucking_ kidding," Yusuke said. "Is he telling the truth? Whoever he has up there is going to be mentally AWOL if we do the world a favor and kill him?"

Their resident psychic looked pale, and it wasn't just the moonlight's fault. "From what I can tell, yeah. He is."

"You know, I don't believe you," Kuronue said loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "I don't think you've actually got anyone up there," he added accusingly. "I think you're _lying_."

Horikawa's jaw dropped open. "I am _not!_ " he said, stamping his foot.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" Kuronue shot back, ignoring his teammates' incredulous looks. He'd have said Hiei was holding back laughter, if he thought Hiei capable of it. "I bet you can't even take control of anyone with that doll!" Recklessly he charged ahead, not thinking so much about his words as he was hoping to get Horikawa as angry as he could. "I bet you can't take control of me!"

"I can, but I don't _want_ to! You're all boring!" Horikawa declared, tossing greasy bangs out of his eyes. "You all think of one thing at a time, just _one_ , and you all want to hurt me or stop me or get rid of me! You're all like little rocks, smooth river stones and, and _boring!_ My prince is interesting because he's all broken up inside and not whole and in pieces and thinking of twenty different things all at once!"

"I don't believe anyone like that exists!" Kuronue insisted. Yusuke's eyes lit up with understanding, finally.

"He does so!"

"Then bring him down!" That was from Yusuke. "I agree with Kuroji, I don't think your prince is real."

"He is! He is!" There were tears in Horikawa's eyes, and he turned, staring up the stairs, and lifted the doll in his arms. "Come here!" he ordered, like a child bossing around its parents. "Save me! They're being bullies!"

"We kinda are," Kuwabara mumbled, shoulders hunched. Hiei had long since dismissed his sword, stepping back to watch the carnage with his lips pressed hard together. Kuronue was half convinced he'd broken something trying not to laugh.

"Hey, as long as it works," Yusuke muttered back. "It's not really the sort of fight I expected, but—" he stopped talking with a strangled noise, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

Shuuichi was stepping carefully down the stairs, eyes staring blankly ahead of him, fingertips trailing over the wall. He moved robotically, jerkily, entirely unlike his usual self-possessed grace. He reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. Horikawa snuggled into his side, lifting Shuuichi's arm and moving it so that it fell over his shoulder. "I told you so," Horikawa said. "Twisty mind, all mine, all mine."

Kuronue swallowed. "Kuwabara, you're _sure_ he was telling the truth about his victims being trapped in their own heads if we kill him?"

"Yeah," Kuwabara said, sounding about as horrified as he felt. "Pretty sure."

"Any ideas?" Yusuke asked, and looked at Kuronue.

"Why me?"

"You had the last one, and Shuuichi's not gonna help us."

Kuronue had to concede he had a point. "Um."

Horikawa stepped away, pushing Shuuichi forward slightly with one hand on his lower back. "Prince Fights Bandits! Kill them!" Shuuichi blinked, eyes still staring blankly ahead. Horikawa frowned slightly, jostled the baby doll in his arms. "No, not again… I said _kill them!_ "

Shuuichi blinked again, lifted his chin slightly to look at them all: Kuwabara reluctant but with his spirit sword in hand, Yusuke angry and determined and with both fists raised, Hiei hanging back in the shadows and clearly with no intention of getting involved, and Kuronue, one hand spinning a scythe and waiting for an opportunity to capture the both of them. For a moment, indigo eyes met green, and something flickered between them. Kuronue could have sworn Shuuichi had focused on him, but he turned away.

Before Kuronue could really understand what he was doing, let alone why, Shuuichi had knelt and brushed his fingers through the scant grass blades near his feet. He plucked one and straightened, spinning it between forefinger and thumb in a familiar motion that made Kuronue's heart ache. But what…?

Just as Kuronue figured out that he'd watched clawed fingers do the exact same thing millions of times, just as enough pieces of the puzzle clicked together to tell Kuronue _what_ even if he didn't know _how_ , just as _youki—familiar_ youki, youki _I know better than my own—_ flared and flowed into the little grass blade…

Shuuichi spun on his heel, red hair flying out behind him, blood following the path of the green blade. Horikawa's head thudded to the ground with a sickening splat of blood and gore and spinal fluid. The body swayed for a few endless seconds before folding down. By the time Shuuichi turned to face them again, the side of his mouth had pulled up into a little quirk that anyone else would have seen as confident, even cocky, but Kuronue knew meant _Oh, good, I wasn't entirely certain that would work_ the same way he knew in his soul he was the only one to ever see it.

The _kusarigama_ fell from nerveless fingers, clattering on cracked tile and splashing in Horikawa's blood.

"Kurama."

* * *

 **A note on this chapter**

(General apology for not making "original enemy" clearer during the last chapter!)

I haven't begged for reviews for a while, but I will this time because I am genuinely nervous about how this one is going to go over. Does it feel anticlimactic after the amount of build up and tension I was pulling during the earlier stories? Does it make sense as to why things would snap into place now? Was Horikawa at _all_ as creepy as I wanted him to be? (Remember how I said I can't name people in fanfiction? Horikawa is the last name of Karasu's voice-actor. Yeah, he was originally going to be a _lot_ more sexual-harassment than he wound up being.) Seriously though, guys, my stomach is in knots posting this.

Also yes, that is another cliff hanger. And unlike last week, this one is going to take two weeks to resolve properly, because I skip back a bit in the next chapter, time-wise, to give a few other answers.

I bring up something this chapter that's going to be explored a bit later, and maybe explained a tiny bit. Note that this is exploration and not what I think is actually the case in the show, but thought might be fun to inflict on my favorites.

I mostly feel bad because yes! We've finally reached the point everyone's been waiting for! ...Kind of! You'll see what I mean next week.

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies!**

 **Fox:** Heeee, yeah. Their conversations are _so_ much fun to write. I'm glad to hear I brighten your day! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

And thank you again to **Samjok-o** , **TiaKay** , **Zolata** , and **Unita** for your reviews last chapter!


	15. Mindscape

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Whelve (origin Old English):_ (v.) to bury something deep; to hide

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Mindscape**

* * *

 _In Which a Fox Slips a Trap_

* * *

Togashi- _sensei_ wavered on the step ladder as he pinned the school wide scores onto the noticeboard. Kurama skirted the growing crowd and gave only a brief glance toward the list to check that his name was first, and to check the top scores for the second and third graders as well: it would be a useful benchmark for the next years' performances.

"One of these days, Minamino," he heard a familiar, gravelly voice say from beside him. Kurama turned to give his would-be rival a charming smile.

"You're quite talented, Kaito- _kun,"_ he said. "I will have to work hard to stay ahead of you." He wished Kaito all the luck in the worlds; he'd need it, to have any hope of actually besting him. Kaito Yu was very talented, of course—he had to be, to even pretend at a rivalry—and when it came to language Kurama had to concede he was outmatched. There was no shame in being self aware, and knowing one's limits was a corollary to knowing one's own abilities. Unfortunately, Kaito had yet to learn the same lesson. Perhaps in a few years.

Kaito bristled, as Kurama knew he would. So easy to manipulate. "I don't need your condescension, Minamino!"

"I'm only telling the truth, Kaito- _kun,_ " Kurama said, letting his eyes widen into innocence. "Would you like me to help you study? Biology is my best subject, and it looks as if that's what's bringing your cumulative score down…"

Kaito snarled in a way that would do any _youkai_ proud, and stalked away, hands clenching at his sides.

"I saw that, Shuuichi," Maaya said, slipping through the crowd to stand beside him. "You shouldn't rile him."

"Motivate," Kurama corrected. "I'm motivating him. He might actually give me a challenge, someday." And wouldn't that be wonderful?

Maaya shook her head. "You know, Shuuichi, sometimes I think you're just bored."

"Sometimes I think you're right," he murmured to himself, eyes finding his name again, black characters stark against the white paper.

* * *

Togashi- _sensei_ wavered on the step ladder as he pinned the school wide scores onto the noticeboard. Kurama skirted the growing crowd, but cast only a brief glance toward the list. He'd seen his name (at the top for his grade) when it was first posted yesterday and he knew that wouldn't have changed. Though why another copy was going up… _No_ , Kurama decided. _Unimportant_.

"One of these days, Minamino," he heard grumbled behind him, and hardly bothered hiding the smile. He wished Kaito all the luck in the worlds: he'd need it, to have any hope of actually besting him. Kaito Yu was very talented, of course—he had to be, to even pretend at a rivalry—and when it came to language even Kurama had to admit he was outmatched. There was no shame in being self aware, and knowing one's limits was a corollary to knowing one's own abilities. Unfortunately, Kaito had yet to learn the same lesson. Perhaps in a few years.

Yesterday he had stopped and talked with him ("taunt" was such an ugly word) but today… today Kurama felt wrong. Distracted. Unbalanced, somehow. And it was unwise to engage a would-be enemy in such a state when given a choice.

"I don't need your condescension, Minamino!" Kaito snapped.

Kurama stopped with an inaudible sigh. "As I've told you before, Kaito- _kun,_ I mean nothing by it. I simply didn't see—"

Kaito snarled in a way that would do any _youkai_ proud, and stalked away, hands clenching at his sides. Kurama watched with growing concern, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. Kaito didn't walk away mid-sentence…

"I saw that, Shuuichi," Maaya said. She stood beside him, arms crossed.

"Then you think it strange—"

"You shouldn't rile him."

Kurama blinked, unease creeping over his skin. "But I didn't do anything."

Maaya shook her head. "You know, Shuuichi, sometimes I think you're just bored."

"You said that yest—"

* * *

Togashi- _sensei_ wavered on the step ladder as he pinned the school wide scores onto the noticeboard. Kurama stood at the edge of the growing crowd, students jostling around him like water around a rock. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong and he couldn't even figure out what…

"One of these days, Minamino," he heard from in front of him.

Kurama ran.

* * *

Togashi- _sensei_ wavered on the step ladder as he pinned the school wide scores onto the noticeboard, but Kurama didn't stay to look. He moved against the crowd, twisting and dodging his way through and back down the hallway—back the way he came, logic insisted, but he had no memory of it.

The hallway darkened around him as he ran, street shoes louder than he would like against tile. The chatter of a normal school day swelled around him, reassuring in its routine, but he didn't need to hear the baying of the hounds to know they were there. Kurama reached the staircase and grabbed at the railing, claws scoring blue paint as he used it to redirect himself around the corner and down. Silk slippers lost traction on tile and he fell, tumbling down the staircase to slam into a concrete corner, a bundle of white and silver and panic and fury.

This wasn't his school. Oh, it looked exactly like it, sounded like it, even smelt like it, rice from the kitchens and the distinct chemical bite of formaldehyde and sulfur from the labs and hormonal teenager from _everywhere_. Yet the knowledge trembled in his very soul, sending aftershocks through his being and setting his hands shaking: he was trapped. Someone had trapped him.

 _And for that, someone will pay._

Kurama took a deep breath, examined the fear and the panic, and placed it to one side. _No. Think._ Think. _Your mind is your greatest weapon, wield it!_

This was a trap. Struggling would make it tighten faster, harder—already the walls seemed to be closing in, and all he could think to do was twist and writhe and snap his fangs _until it stopped—_

 _Breathe. They want you panicked. So don't panic, and for Inari's sake_ think!

A trap tightened with struggling. But follow it, and he might slip free. Don't leave the school. Even if every fiber of him wanted to start breaking down walls if it would get fresh, green air on his face—that's what they expected.

So. Do the opposite.

Kurama rose to his feet, shook red hair out of his face, and continued down the stairs, past the first floor, ground floor, and to the dank, dark door that he hated. His claustrophobia was a very, _very_ well kept secret. As it applied to only specific situations and scenarios, this wasn't hard to do. Overgrown, choked forest, the sort that felt like it was closing in on you, where anything might be hiding behind the next tree, or watching you from above? Or caves, hollows deep underground where he'd made caches and hideaways and dens that were cozy, close, matched with black wings and indigo eyes? Homes the both of them, of a different sort. Buildings, though. Concrete monuments to progress… They raised his hackles if he spent too long inside. And as for _basements…_

 _Staring at the door isn't going to make this any easier,_ Kurama told himself, and stalked forward with narrowed eyes and the burning combination of cold fury and determination that had brought him safely through so much of his life.

The door creaked open, and a breeze that smelled of blood and pine and rotten things teased his clothes and the ends of his hair. Kurama slipped through, not caring when the door clanged shut behind him and the school vanished, because he was—somehow, impossibly— _home._

Kurama followed the winding path through the bamboo grove, the tips of his fingers trailing over the stalks and his street shoes crunching over dead leaves and twigs. This wasn't real, he acknowledged that. Not real so far as it was not _Ningenkai_ , nor truly _Makai_ , but this wasn't a trap, either. He had the distinct feeling he wasn't supposed to be here, yes, but that was different. Here, he was… safe. _Have I ever felt this safe?_

Light flickered through the stalks of bamboo, and Kurama turned the corner to find his way forward blocked by a solid sheet of… something. Not glass, he found when he pressed clawed fingertips to it. Nor stone, nor plastic, nor anything else he'd ever felt in his life. He could just make out the blurred shapes of the path and the bamboo grove behind the wall, though it extended as far as he could see to either side. And unless he was _very_ much mistaken, it was glowing. He tapped it gently with one knuckle. Too high to jump, too smooth to climb, he didn't have any way to dig…

"What on earth _is_ it, though?" he murmured, coming back to the question of what a wall was doing in the middle of a path in some sort of pocket dimension he couldn't remember getting into in the first place.

" _Kekkai_ ," someone said from behind him, and he turned, taking a careful step until he could feel the wall, the _kekkai_ , brush his back. The _youkai_ in front of him (definitely _youkai,_ those ears were not _ningen_ and he had wings) crossed his arms, studying him with one raised eyebrow. Midnight dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail, red pendant, black leather. Familiar, the name on the tip of his tongue, and what passed for his heart yearned towards him with instant trust, yet…

"A _kekkai_?" Kurama repeated. He tilted his head to one side, eyes widening quizzically and red hair whispering over white silk.

"Don't act stupid, it doesn't suit you," the _youkai_ said with a grin. "You know what a _kekkai_ is."

A swirl of wind blew bamboo leaves across the path, and Kurama was almost startled to find that he did know. "A barrier. A ward. But how is it here? No…" he half turned, pressing fingers forward again. "That's not the important question, is it. What is it blocking?"

"You're not supposed to be down here, y'know," the _youkai_ said, coming up to stand behind him, half an inch taller and solid and warm. Kurama should have felt threatened, considering the definite violation of personal space. Should have, and didn't. The _youkai_ tapped his hand, regaining his attention, and pointed down and to the left. "Look."

The glow was stronger there. Kurama knelt, dragging the tips of his fingers across the wall, letting them tell him what sight could not. Most of the kekkai was slick and smooth and frictionless, but where that light was stronger, hair fine cracks had formed. Kurama traced the webwork of paths in silence, from a knot of crumbling energy higher and higher, growing thinner as he reached up. They widened under his touch, and Kuronue reached up and covered his hand.

"That's… probably enough," he said, pulling him back and around so that indigo eyes met gold-amber again.

"The _kekkai_ is breaking?" Kurama asked him, mind tracing out thoughts and probabilities like his fingers had traced that lacing of cracks.

"Yeah. And before you ask, no, there's nothing we can do to fix it."

"Is that such a bad thing…?" Kurama's eyes sharpened, green focusing on indigo as something else occurred to him. "Who are you?"

Kuronue smiled at him with roguish charm. "Now you're asking the right questions. Come on, we'll walk and talk. You really _shouldn't_ be down here," he added, almost an apology. He kept their hands tangled together, pulling him off the path and onto another that Kurama would have sworn wasn't there before.

"We're walking," Kurama said, but didn't pull his hand away, much to his own confusion. "So…?"

"You know, between the two of us, _you're_ supposed to be the patient one." Kuronue tossed him another smile over his shoulder. "Okay, let's do last question first, since that's easiest. You're right, I'm not Kuronue. Not really."

At this, Kurama did stop walking, digging his heels in. "Then who—"

"Haven't you figured out where we are yet?" Not-Kuronue asked. "I thought you had when you asked."

He fell silent, the distraction of the challenge letting Not-Kuronue pull him along again, as had probably been the goal in asking. He came here from the school, and he got to the school from… from…

 _…The doll's eyes slid open as it shifted, showing not blue plastic or glass, as he would have expected, but flat, polished mirrors…_

"The doll—I couldn't move, and then—" Kurama stopped again, suddenly enough that Not-Kuronue fell back with a grunt. "We're in my _mind_?"

Not-Kuronue rolled his shoulder and gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, there you go, but try not to dislocate my shoulder next time, okay?" He sighed, nodding his head back towards their path, no longer winding through a bamboo grove, but a forest of evergreens. "So, to make a longer explanation hopefully shorter, you're right. I'm not actually Kuronue. I'm part of you."

"Then why do you look like Kuronue?"

"Who else would you ask to guard something so vital?" They stopped again, and this time Kuronue turned to look at him, raising his free hand to press gentle fingers along his hairline, brush red hair behind a human ear, and trace down his jaw. "You never told him, but Kuronue is the _only_ person you've ever trusted enough to be vulnerable with."

"That's ridiculous," Kurama said, and cleared his throat, shaking away the trembling breathlessness of the moment. "I trust my mother. I trust Yusuke and Kuwabara."

Not-Kuronue laughed. "You trust Yusuke and Kuwabara to act in predictable ways, and to watch your back in a fight, but you don't trust them _not_ to do something stupid or heroic. As for your mother… No, you don't trust her at all. Not to take care of herself and not to take care of you. What do you think she would do, if she knew about all this?" He gestured expansively at the forest and the kekkai behind them and somehow at the whole wide, dark world he had stumbled into and was a part of him. Kuronue waited for an answer that wouldn't come, and smiled, almost bitter. "You love her, but you don't trust her."

"I trust _myself_!"

"Bullshit," Kuronue said, carefully enunciating the word. He leaned closer, eyes lightening to gold-amber and hair bleeding silver. "You've _never_ trusted yourself. All your little rules for yourself, all your little plots and manipulations, all of them exist for a reason. You run and you run and you'll never stop running and you'll never stop _wanting_ because the thing you're running from is an emptiness inside yourself, and it _scares_ you. You don't trust yourself _and you never will_."

Kurama yanked away, back slamming into an old, gnarled pine that dug knots into his spine. Not-Kuronue watched him in silence, waiting as his breath steadied. When he offered the hand again, Kurama took it without meeting his eyes.

"It wouldn't be a bad thing if the _kekkai_ came down," Kuronue said after they'd walked in silence for nearly a minute. "Which, if we leave it alone, it will. Of course, I could be wrong—there's not exactly precedent for what you are, so a lot of it's guess work."

"So we can't fix it, and if we leave it alone, it'll come down slowly. And breaking it purposefully is a bad idea because…?"

"You could be driven insane, incapable of distinguishing between past and present, dream and reality. Or, your mind might break and land you in a vegetative state or coma," Kuronue said with a shrug of shoulders and wings. "As I said, there's no real precedent, so better safe than sorry, especially when dealing with something like this."

Kurama shivered. "Yes," he agreed, ignoring the goosebumps tracing up his arms. "Yes, I can understand that."

"Good. As for _why_ it's coming down, now… It shouldn't. Something caused it to start cracking, but I don't know what." Something to figure out when he got back, assuming he could remember this conversation on more beyond a subconscious level. "As for what's behind it… Life, would be the short answer. Experience. Knowledge. At this point, mostly memories."

"At this point?" Kurama repeated.

"The leak's pretty old. Almost a month, at least. Power has been trickling out, though not all of it."

"My plants?"

Kuronue grinned. "Exactly. That's not _reiki_ you've been using. Your body has some _reiki_ just because you're human, for now, but you have to go deeper for true power. And that means pulling _youki_ from beyond the _kekkai_."

"It's not just life and experience beyond that thing, is it? It's a soul. My soul…" Kurama said quietly.

"A _youkai_ soul. Yep." The knowledge slid in like the reassurance of an old friend. _Youkai._ Of course he was. Or wasn't. Or had been. _Youkai_ then. _Ningen_ now. And what would he become in the future? "So that's three out of four of your questions, right?" Kuronue asked and dropped his hand, pausing on the edge of the forest—and quite literally the edge. The forest, the ground, everything simply stopped, like someone had come along and erased the world at the treeline, leaving nothing but a colorless void. "Last one was _how is it here._ Can you answer that yourself, yet?"

If he focused, he could almost remember. A flash of light, and pain in his back, his neck, and the sure, inescapable knowledge he was about to die… and that same cold fury and determination that had let him survive centuries upon centuries. But what had happened after? "I made it… manifested it… But _why_?"

Kuronue smirked at him, and Kurama remembered belatedly that this wasn't actually Kuronue, and he never had trusted himself. "Sorry," he said without sounding sorry at all. "I'm afraid that was the last question I promised to answer." He raised both hands and pushed so that Kurama stumbled backwards.

Air beneath his heel, and Kurama slipped, and fell upwards, scrambling at air and darkness and a crushing _nothingness—_

* * *

Shuuichi surfaced from the depths of his mind in a factory that smelled like soot and burnt plastic. Three friends, an ally, and an enemy, but there was something tilted about the world. The enemy was closest, nestled against his side as if he would willingly provide protection. Fool.

"Prince fights bandits!" that whining, petulant voice said, pushing him forward with a hand against his back. "Kill them!" Shuuichi blinked, distracted and off balance. His tail was... Except what tail? The world spun and swayed again. "No, not again… I said _kill them!"_

 _Inari, shut_ up, _you're giving me a headache…_

Gaze roaming around the four standing in front of him, Shuuichi blinked again. Kill them? Hiei, whose angry pride and honor was a never-ending source of black amusement? Kuwabara, whose support and naive faith in humanity had leant some much needed light? Yusuke, whose conversation and straightforward thoughts, so unlike his own, had made him laugh and relax and pulled his steps away from the melancholy he tended towards? Who in odd moments sometimes made him think of…

Kuronue. Different, yes—what had he done to his _wings?_ —but still his Kuronue. His Kuronue, his friend and partner and trusted confidant. _You never told him, but…_ Shuuichi tore his eyes away. They would have to talk, but first there was the small matter of the hand on his back and the breath in his ear and that disgusting face far too close to his own. He knelt, plucking a serviceable blade of grass and spinning it through his fingers as he traced his way through and down, downdowndown to that power that sang like wet leaves after a summer shower and _pulled…_

The head hit the ground as he finished the three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn, red hair brushing his cheeks as Shuuichi lifted his head and smiled at his Kuronue. There, it had worked. That was taken care of, now they wouldn't be interrupted. They had a lot to talk about after all, even if Shuuichi couldn't grasp all of it, like why he felt as if they hadn't seen each other for years, why that thought shamed him, or why Kuronue had gone so very white, staring at him like he was a ghost.

Metal clattered to the ground as Kuronue dropped the scythes, and named him.

"Kurama."

Shuuichi considered this, tilting his head to one side. _Yes_. Kurama smiled like he had a secret, slow and predatory. A fox stalking its prey. _I suppose I am._

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

And we can move forward now.

So... a few answers and hints of answers and even a few questions... I hope this chapter continues to deliver, particularly after last week. This was honestly one of my favorite chapters to write and I'd had it planned since pretty much the beginning of this fic. I think things are understandable, but if there's any confusion please let me know?

And all y'all really came through for me last week (eight reviews for a single chapter?!). Please keep it up! I'm hoping that my pacing for this persists and that the tension doesn't just drop, but. Yeah. Zilch confidence in my own writing. I'm sorry.

Next week's... well. It'll be a surprise for you all, I think.

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies**

 **Fox:** Wait, could Horikawa be worse as in a better villain, or could be worse as in could be worse written? I'm glad you still love my fic. And "nicest torture?" Well... I'd be lying if I said that wasn't the intention.

 **Guest:** Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last.

And huge thank yous to **Unita, Zolata, Somjok-o, TiaKay, ChaoticHarmony1991,** and **Shalimmara!**


	16. Almost Home

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Naz (origin Urdu)_ : (n.) the pride that comes with knowing you are loved no matter what you do

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Almost Home**

* * *

 _In Which Mothers Always Know More Than They Say_

* * *

"Kurama," Kuronue repeated, feeling loose and numb in almost the same way he had fifteen years ago, right after...

That quirk of lips widened and warmed into something more genuine, more honest. "Kuronue." Green eyes held his, and then slid shut as he swayed on his feet.

Kuronue leapt forward, catching him as he fell because what else was he going to do? _He'll be pissed when he wakes up and finds out he fainted like a weakling._ Though Kuronue could hardly blame him; he felt a bit like fainting himself. His knees buckled, and rather than fight it Kuronue pulled them both down and back so they landed well out of the growing puddle of blood.

Silence, but for the rustle of night-birds outside. Silence, and stillness—for all of three seconds.

"What?" Yusuke's voice put the world on play again. "No, wait—" he paused, struggled for words. "Nope, still confused. _What?"_

"I don't know how," Kuronue said, feeling a little helpless and a little like laughing and a little like crying. "But I think I found him."

Kuwabara's sword cast thicker shadows than the moonlight as he moved forward cautiously and prodded the dead body with the toe of one shoe. "Should we… I don't know, break the doll, too?"

"No, uh-uh, hold up! I'm still stuck on _what the hell just happened?"_ Yusuke said, voice cracking as it rose. "Shuuichi just—I thought he—holy shit he just decapitated someone."

Hiei snorted. "I'd say he was restraining himself. Foxes don't take kindly to being trapped."

"Trapped?"

"Foxes?"

"You _knew?_ " Kuwabara, Yusuke, and Kuronue all spoke at once, but it was Kuronue's fury that Hiei answered with a negligent shrug.

"I never knew, I only… suspected."

"When." If Shuuichi—Kurama-hadn't been nestled into his shoulder, he'd have been throttling Hiei. How could he have suspected, but never _mentioned a damn thing_?

Hiei tilted his head towards Kuwabara. "During one of their lessons, the fox pulled a rather interesting trick. While I'm sure he's not the only plant master in all of _Makai_ , he's the only one I know of who could manage to turn himself human." Hiei sneered. "Though why he would want to is beyond me."

"Yeah, yeah, being human sucks," Yusuke snapped bad temperedly. "For those of us who don't know _Who's Who_ in _Makai_? Someone mind filling me in here?"

"Shuuichi's _youkai_ ," Kuwabara said slowly as he dismissed his sword and looked from the limp redhead to Kuronue to Hiei. "Right?"

"Yeah," Kuronue whispered. "And not just any _youkai_. He's Kurama." He shifted so that red hair would stop tickling his neck and wrapped a careful arm around his waist. Still unconscious, Kurama-Shuuichi? fuck it, _Kurama_ -nuzzled into his shoulder.

Yusuke's eyes had softened as he watched. "He's your friend, then? The one you thought had died?"

"He _did_ die," Kuronue said, trying to puzzle out exactly what had happened. "I was thinking about it wrong—it's not that he survived, it's that he was… back." He laughed suddenly. "And he was the one to put me on track, too! Bastard, I swear to all the gods, he'd better have a _damn good reason_ for lying to me—" his voice cracked.

"I don't think he was…" Kuwabara said, frowning as he stared down at both of them. "I mean, yeah. Shuuichi lies and he does it well, we already know that. But all this? I'm… I don't think _he_ knew."

"What do you mean?" Yusuke asked.

Kuwabara shrugged. "He felt human to me. Maybe not always—sometimes he felt a little, well, _wilder_ , but when I asked he was always confused by it. He never noticed he was doing anything odd."

"The _Youko_ Kurama was one of the most accomplished thieves and strategists in the whole bloody history of _Makai_ ," Hiei said abruptly, not looking at any of them. "I cannot imagine him being idiotic enough to actively involve himself with _Reikai_ when he spent the better part of the last century deliberately driving them crazy."

Kuronue wasn't so sure about that. If Kurama thought he could get information—especially finding out what Reikai knew about him… And he had been very persistent with questions about himself. Kuronue snorted quietly. No wonder "Shuuichi" had laughed so hard at the idea of a cat fight with Kurama.

Yusuke sighed deeply, putting both hands on his hips and staring down at Horikawa's head. "Sounds like we're not going to get any actual answers until he wakes up, and no telling when that'll be." He gave them each a considering once-over. "Hiei," he started.

"Leave me out of your little work roster, detective," was the only reply. "The target is dead. I'm done." He flitted away, moving from the floor of the factory to the holes in the roof and then out into the night.

Even in the gloom, Kuronue could see Yusuke rolling his eyes. "I was just going to say we had it covered," he muttered. "You don't think he's going to blab to Koenma about—nah," Yusuke said with a laugh. "I'm sure he'll keep his mouth shut. Probably thinks it's funny."

"Keep his mouth shut?" Kuronue repeated dumbly.

Yusuke grinned at him with all the recklessness of a motorcyclist out to catch bugs with his teeth. "Yeah. I mean, he said it himself—Kurama and Kuronue are some pretty big name bad guys, right? I figure the last thing the pair of you need right now is having to go on the run. Kuwabara?"

Kuwabara sighed. "So your name isn't Kuroji?"

"Er… No," Kuronue admitted, still not really sure where this was going. "Kuronue."

"And you've been looking for Kurama because he's your friend? And now Shuuichi is Kurama?"

It felt like a drastic oversimplification of the last month, let alone the last hour or so, but Kuronue nodded. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Kuwabara gave him a rather skeptical look, but looked at Yusuke. "And we're not going to tell Botan that Shuuichi is actually _youkai_ or that Kuroji is actually Kuronue?"

"Nope!"

Kuwabara shrugged. "Okay. Just making sure I understood what was going on."

"Great!" Yusuke said brightly. "So we need to get the doll back to Botan and Shuuichi back to his mom—and man, is that a weird concept…" Kuronue nodded silent agreement, finding his eyes drawn back to Kurama's face, trying to see his _youko_ under the human shape. How had he _missed_ it? And why hadn't he _told_ him…? _I know you know who I am, Kurama, so_ why—?

"Kuronue?"

He blinked, looking up at Yusuke and Kuwabara again. "Huh? Sorry?" The both of them exchanged exasperated glances.

"I said, does that sound good?" Yusuke repeated, crossing his arms.

"Um… sure?" Kuronue tried. Both teens grinned, and Kuronue swallowed, wondering what he'd agreed to.

* * *

"You do realize that I'm never living this down, and it's all your fault?" Kuronue grumbled one extremely awkward bus ride later, addressing the still sleeping redhead he now carried on his back. He was a little concerned about how out of it he was, but Botan (after some panic and a serious scolding-like it was _his_ fault Shuuichi had gotten kidnapped!) had assured them that he would be fine. As far as she could tell, he was in similar condition to Yusuke after Suzaku—exhausted and drained, but at least he wasn't physically wounded.

Still, to little old busybodies riding the bus, it looked like his boyfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. It didn't help that, since Kurama had someone else's blood all down his front, Kuronue had wrapped him in his jacket. And since his jacket was practically made of scrap leather and zippers, it was absolutely impossible to pass it off as belonging to Kurama in the first place. He practically radiated an aura of clean-cut straight-A goody-two-shoes, which Kuronue had every intention of bringing up every chance he got in retribution for the last month.

Kuronue couldn't stop touching him, either, because _gods_ he was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it was true. So he wound up supporting Kurama with an arm around his shoulders and a hand in his hair. Which, okay, wasn't helping the whole _holy shit Shuuichi is actually Kurama_ problem because Kurama had had as much a Thing about letting other people touch his hair (namely that they weren't going to, since that's where he kept most of his weapons) as Kuronue had had a Thing about touching it (namely that he really wanted to, since it looked silky smooth and soft). So yeah, he was taking horrible advantage here, but he had never been good at resisting temptation.

Yusuke and Kuwabara were _not_ as subtle as they thought they were, sneaking glances and sniggering the entire bus ride back into the city.

 _I wonder if even you would recognize him as he is now… No kidding._ Kuronue sighed. "Seriously, Kurama," he said, keeping up the commentary so he wouldn't think too hard about what the hell he was going to tell Minamino- _san_. A _very_ cold nose pressed into the nape of his neck, accompanied by a warm rush of breath, and Kuronue shivered so hard he almost dropped him. "Kurama?" No answer, and when Kuronue twisted his head around, his eyes were still closed. "You better not be faking to get out of explaining things to your mom," Kuronue warned him, shifting to get a better grip on his friend. "Lot more snuggly than you were, aren't you? Not that that's a bad thing, mind, you know how touchy-feely I can be. Prettier, too. I mean you've always been gorgeous and you've always known it, but now I kind of… Never mind." Kuronue coughed. "With my luck you'll wake up just when I say something embarrassing so… shutting up now."

Except he'd always been rubbish at that, and so was talking again in half-a-minute. "By the way, I'm expecting you awake by tomorrow afternoon at the latest. Yusuke was pretty beat up and was fried I don't know how many times, so you don't have that excuse. And I know it's going to be more effective when you're awake to listen to it and glare at me for ruffling your oh-so-important dignity, but _I told you so_. I _told_ you you were a nerd, and I told you that stupid magical clipboard wasn't worth it, and you so totally owe me. Fuzzy bastard. Well. Not so fuzzy anymore, huh? Can't exactly pull your tail when you don't have one… Not that that wasn't asking for trouble—Oh, _helldamnfire,_ we're here."

Kuronue stopped at the driveway, staring at the deceptively innocent looking suburban home. Not unlike the deceptively innocent looking teen he was carrying piggy-back, really. Kuronue took a deep breath, and deliberately jostled Kurama in the hopes of getting him to wake up. Nothing. "No ideas on what to tell Mother Dearest, then?" Kuronue grumbled. Still nothing. "You know, there are times I hate you."

Two in the morning, with a light on in the kitchen. Kuronue leaned an elbow against the doorbell, already picking through the events of the night to stitch together a cover story. Then the door opened, and Kuronue took a reflexive step back. Seeing Minamino Shiori from a distance a handful of times did not prepare him for a very pissed-off mother who, though probably a head shorter than he was at least, gave the impression of filling the entire doorway.

"Minamino Shuuichi, what time do you call—Oh, my God!" Kuronue wasn't sure if she'd seen the blood on her unconscious son, but tried for a reassuring smile anyway. It probably didn't work as well as he hoped.

Shiori had the too-thin look of someone who had spent a great deal of the past few months living on hospital food or an IV, but she was still very attractive. A decade or two ago, she'd have had the sort of effortless, understated beauty that drew second glances and interest. Even now with her long hair pulled neatly back and wrapped in a conservative terrycloth bathrobe, she had a softness in dark brown eyes that drew the unprepared in, and promised support and a listening ear. Ye gods, no _wonder_ Shuuichi was so devoted and fiercely protective.

"Hi," Kuronue managed, and swallowed hard. Showing up with piercings in his lip and ripped jeans and combat boots on the front door step at two-almost-three in the morning blew any chance of a good first impression out of the water, and that was without the unconscious teenager on his shoulder. Oh, man. _Hope like hell you can talk your way out of this one, Kuro, or she's kicking you out and you'll never be let back in._ And Kuronue had no doubt she'd be capable of it, either. Human or not.

Shiori's mouth worked for a few seconds, opening and closing as she stared at them both, before it snapped shut with an audible clicking of teeth. Her eyes were very sharp when they met Kuronue's again, and he winced instinctively. Sure, he'd gotten into trouble in _Makai_ before, but somehow he'd missed out on the experience of trying to explain yourself to a disappointed parent. _Reikai_ should use Minamino Shiori as an interrogator. One skeptical eyebrow and anyone would scramble to explain themselves. It didn't help that the woman kept reminding him of a ticked off Kurama in the weirdest ways. The mouth. Had to be the mouth—pursed lips were never a good sign. And when the eyes got that narrow, that _knowing?_ _Yeah, you're definitely her son, Kurama, though I still don't know how that happened._

"I think," Shiori said, each syllable quiet and distinctly spoken, "That you had best come inside." In no way was it a request.

Kuronue swallowed. "Yes, ma'am."

She stood back to let him in, and locked the door behind them. "This way, please," she said, and gestures towards the stairs. "His room is the second door on the left." It did not escape his notice that Shiori made sure he went first. Kuronue didn't fight it. Anything that put her at ease would help in the long term.

Shuuichi's room was clean, though not compulsively. Books stacked on the desk or placed carefully on the shelf, a basket for dirty clothes, a somewhat rumpled bed—and a rose in a glass of water on the nightstand, Kuronue noted with amusement. Shiori flipped back the covers and stepped away, and Kuronue sat on the edge of the bed to carefully lower Kurama down. The redhead was frowning, just a slight twist to his lips, and before he could consider the action Kuronue reached out to smooth brilliant, soft hair behind his ear. So strangely human.

And humans were so easy to kill. They'd made lots of enemies—Reikai the most dangerous, but plenty of others would jump at the chance to claim Kurama's head. And he was so vulnerable now. All it would take would be a single lucky _youkai..._

Kuronue pulled away, and stood. "I'm sorry for the trouble, Minamino- _san,"_ he said, mostly because he wasn't sure what else to say.

She was watching him. Kuronue had the uncomfortable feeling she'd noticed something very obvious, and that he was still missing it. She stepped forward to remove Shuuichi's shoes and pull the blankets over his shoulders, and though her eyes were on her son, he had the distinct impression her attention stayed on him. What was it they said about moms and eyes in the back of their head? "What's your name?" Shiori asked, sounding only faintly curious.

"Kuro—" He considered lying her for approximately half a second. "Kuronue."

"Kuronue," she repeated, crossing her arms over her bathrobe. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Kuronue- _san_?" She left before he could answer, leaving the _youkai_ to trail behind her like an awkward teenager. _I hate this! Just ask your questions so I can lie and go sleep on your roof and ambush Kurama when he wakes up, dammit._

Well, if nothing else, Minamino Shiori was not a mind reader (probably, though at this point Kuronue wouldn't put much past the Minamino family). She moved about the kitchen with absolute serenity. Kuronue fidgeted in the doorway, only relaxing when he saw that her hands shook around the mugs and spoons. She almost dropped one as she sat at the table.

"How do you know my son, Kuronue- _san_?"

The biggest problem Botan had with lying was telling people too much. That said, the foundation for that story of hers with the insects was quite good. Kuronue was a thief—he had no qualms about stealing it. "I work with a private detective agency which specializes in unusual cases. Shuuichi wound up peripherally involved in a case of ours two or three weeks ago, and kept coming back with questions."

Shiori was watching him very carefully, but seemed to accept the story so far. "And what happened tonight that led to you turning up on my doorstep and my son unconscious?"

Kuronue swallowed. Here they got into some tricky territory. "Shuuichi was abducted this evening on his walk back from school," he said. Shiori paled, her fingers tightened around her coffee mug, but she didn't interrupt. "A criminal we'd put away ages ago escaped… sometime today, I'm not completely certain when. I had no idea Shuuichi was involved until he showed up as Horikawa's hostage."

"And he's unconscious because…?"

"Exhaustion and stress," Kuronue said promptly. "He didn't get hit over the head or anything, if that's what you're wondering. Didn't get hurt at all."

Shiori nodded slowly. "All of that's… entirely true, isn't it?"

Kuronue did a quick mental scan of his story, double-checking, and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Why would I lie to you?"

"Why indeed…" She sighed, took a sip of coffee, and placed the mug back on the table, turning it with both hands. "Everything you told me is entirely true, but it's not the entire truth. I know the difference, Kuronue- _san_."

He tilted his head to one side, wary of where she was going with this. "I'm not sure what you mean—"

"Don't you?" Shiori raised her chin, a challenge in her eyes. "No, you know exactly what I mean. You've managed to tell me just enough of the truth to give me a complete story, but there are too many details missing." She raised one eyebrow. "I am not a stupid woman, Kuronue- _san_. I know…" She took a deep, shuddering breath, folding her hands and pressing both thumbs to her lips as though to hold back words. She looked at him again, took a steadier breath, and continued. "Every mother thinks their child is special, unusual… I _know_ my Shuuichi is different. He always has been."

Kuronue wet his lips. "Why are you telling me?"

"Because Shuuichi trusts you. Because you care for him. And because I know that what I tell you will _not_ leave this room."

"I promise." The words were said without conscious decision, and all the more true for it.

"Good. Shuuichi is _my son_ , and I will not let you take him." Shiori continued on before he could fully process the strangeness of that statement. "Sometimes… I don't think Shuuichi is human," Shiori said, and it was Kuronue's turn to clutch at the coffee mug like it would give him some level of stability. _Wait. No way. There's no way she could_ know, _is there…?_

She watched his reaction carefully, and flashed a smile that was almost bitter. "What a thing for a mother to say about her own son," she said quietly. "What a thing to suspect. How horrible… Except that it's true, isn't it?"

 _This is the problem with planning things—you cover left, right, forward, back, and then someone drops a bomb on you from above._ Kuronue swallowed, trying to pick up the shattered remnants of his train of thought. "What… what makes you say that?"

Shiori shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure I can tell you all the little things that make me think he's… different. Some are as little as a flicker of a feeling, impossible to put into actual words—and those haven't happened for years, now. But others… Too many things that could be explained away, _if_ they were isolated. His distinctive looks, for one thing. There's no denying he is a very handsome young man, as I'm sure you've noticed," Shiori gave him a very knowing look. Kuronue blushed—he hadn't blushed in _centuries,_ but something about his best friend's mother (sort of?) calling him out on his attraction for said best friend was a little beyond the usual level of awkward embarrassment. He muttered something that might have been _pretty_ and scalded his tongue on the coffee. Shiori hid a smile behind one polite hand. "Nevertheless, both his father and I came from long, very traditional family lines."

Kuronue winced. "And with red hair and green eyes…"

"Precisely. It took a paternity test to convince his father that I had not had an affair with some foreigner. And then there were the dogs."

"Dogs?" Foxes _were_ canines…

"They hated him. They always have—every dog he's ever met has either tried to take his hand off or has refused to get close. Shuuichi detests them." Shiori sighed. "And it's _just_ dogs. Even the sweetest, friendliest puppy will hide under the chair if he's in the same room."

Okay, that was a little odd, maybe… Wasn't there something about _kitsune_ and dogs not getting on? "So, red hair and dogs…"

"Not nearly enough, I know. I know my legends, but surely they couldn't be _true?_ They were only old stories, after all. I brushed most everything off as quirks, little oddities."

"Everything?" Kuronue prompted. He needed more information, of course, but he also couldn't help honest curiosity.

"The flu went around his preschool, and he caught it. Badly. Badly enough he was running a fever over forty. I ran myself ragged, trying to decide if he needed a hospital or not, if it would turn to pneumonia… I fell asleep at his bedside, and woke up to him just… stroking the back of my hand. He was crying, silently—and he was three, three-year-olds don't cry without making a lot of noise. So I asked him what was wrong, what I could do to help. And he just stared up at me, and said _I'm sorry_."

"For what?"

"Well, I thought he meant for keeping me awake, for being sick, that sort of thing, so I started to reassure him, but he just shook his head and said _No. No, I killed him. I killed your son, Shiori, I'm so sorry._ "

"The fever—"

"Had broken hours ago. I haven't forgotten. I haven't been _able_ to forget. And I can tell you so many more strange and unsettling moments from his childhood. He had vivid night terrors when he was little. I don't know if they stopped or if he just figured out how to keep quiet during them. Once while we were out shopping—a woman in an advertisement was wearing a necklace, some gold and silver thing I commented on as being pretty, and he insisted that if I wanted it, he would get it for me. When I teased him for it—six years old, what money did he have?—he just… laughed. _You don't need money to get things, if you're skilled._ "

True. But dammit, Kurama…

"After his father walked out, he scared off more than one boyfriend, and too subtly for me to truly scold him for it. Smiling and perfectly polite with them, but they would call it off within a week after meeting him for the first time. He approves of Hatanaka, thank goodness." She sighed. "I don't even know how to begin that lecture when his behavior is faultless. It's the way he says things."

Kuronue bit the inside of his cheek. That sounded like Kurama all right… he could say _good morning_ to a prisoner and have them begging for mercy.

Shiori shrugged. "So much of it is the _way_ he says things, or does things, or looks at you… So often it felt as if there was this disconnect between him and the rest of the world, as if he were observing us all from somewhere outside or very far away. It hasn't been… as bad, in the last few years. Nothing nearly as noticeable, and after all I was never certain. Until I saw him in the garden last week."

That had the same effect on Kuronue's mind as throwing a spanner into a running engine. "Garden?" The word was somewhat strangled. He had been trying to marshal some sort of general explanation that didn't involve _'Ma'am, I don't know how it happened but your son seems to have the soul of the_ youko _who was my best friend and I'm still trying to decide if I'm going to hit him, kiss him, or demand answers when he wakes up—'_ Yeah, no. Lying when angry was a bad idea. _Dammit, Kurama, why me? She's_ your _mother!_

Shiori nodded. "It was late at night, and he was just… standing there. Staring up at the cherry tree. He climbed it all the time when he was little, practically every day. In the spring he escapes up there to read—summers, too. Any time it's warm enough. It hasn't bloomed for years, though, and it's fall, but he touched it, just one of the lower branches, and…" she trailed off, eyes soft with the memory.

Moonlight and cherry blossoms, and Kurama among the cherry blossoms, ethereal, otherworldly… He sighed. "Minamino- _san_ ," he said at last, "I don't know exactly what is going on with Shuuichi. But I am _going_ to find out. I want to help him."

"He was wrong," Shiori said suddenly, voice rough and thick. "So many of those little moments, the ones that made me wonder, he just… doesn't remember, or doesn't see what's wrong, like the wires are crossed or we're working with two different definitions of _strange_. Saying he killed my son… I know he doesn't remember that, and I've never brought it up, but he was _wrong_. Whatever else he is, he is my son. He's the only son I've ever had, and knowing that something is wrong and not being able to help is the worst thing a mother can endure."

Kuronue nodded and prayed she wasn't going to start crying. He had no idea what to do if she did, really. Crying women had never been something he was good at. "If it's okay with you," he said, feeling his way cautiously through the suggestion, "I'd like to talk to him when he wakes up."

Shiori closed her eyes, putting herself together, and nodded and smiled at him when she opened them again. "Yes, of course. I'll make up a bed on the couch, if that's acceptable?"

"More than." And if Kurama tried to sneak out past him in the morning, he'd know, dammit. He was not getting away again.

"Thank you, Kuronue- _san_ ," Shiori said, and smiled, when he raised one eyebrow at her. "For listening. I know it might seem odd, that I'll tell you all this when we haven't even known each other for an hour, but…" she shrugged. "I can tell you care deeply for him, and I expect he cares for you, as well. In fifteen years, he's never brought anyone home. And…" she hesitated. "I knew you wouldn't protest the oddities, or say I was just seeing things. You wouldn't judge me for it. When you see enough strange things no one else can see, you learn not to mention it," she admitted.

Kuronue nodded. A psychic. Another one— _gods, Kurama, you definitely attract the weirdos_. Best not to think of what that made _him_. Though, really, some sort of sensitivity explained a _hell_ of a lot. "My pleasure. And when I do know exactly what's going on, I'll—"

"Don't tell me," Shiori interrupted. Her smile widened at his surprise. "Shuuichi should tell me. When he's ready, and not before."

"I'll try to convince him he's ready, then," Kuronue promised. It wouldn't be easy—this was Kurama he was talking about, but damn it all if the woman didn't deserve a more detailed explanation.

Damn it all to hell if _he_ didn't, either.

* * *

 **A note on this chapter**

So Shiori fascinates me but I don't get to explore her as often as I'd like, which is why she's shown up here. I'm a _huge_ fan of the idea of Shiori knowing more than what she says, and thought it worked well here, especially as Kurama didn't know he had a secret to keep, here. The idea of Shiori having some psychic ability isn't mine, either, but is another one of those 'but that makes _sense'_ things. Exactly why it makes sense will be shown in the next chapter, where you will finally (I promise!) get actual answers.

Also Shiori calling Kuronue out on Shuuichi/Kurama being important to him. That... That was fun to write. Their conversation in general was fun to write. Kurama is going to regret the pair of them meeting.

Only a few more chapters to go, guys, which kind of makes me sad...

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Replies**

 **Fox:** Highlight of your Sunday? Eeeee, thank you so much! I'm glad to hear you're enjoying this so much.

 **Llonella:** Pretty much the point of that chapter was to get them acting as partners, or at least working together. I'm glad it seemed realistic!

Also, **Zolata** ; I didn't want to say it in the PM, but your last two reviews made me cackle because of the beginning of this chapter. Which was written long before either chapter fourteen or fifteen was posted. So, I hope that image was what you hoped!

(Also also, **Unita!** How do you keep calling what I'm planning to include? Hope you like this interpretation of Shiori.)

Thanks to **kurofai-fan1, TiaKay, Zolata, Samjok-o,** **Ryanne7,** and **Unita** for your reviews for the last chapter!


	17. Last Piece

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Retrouvaille (origin French):_ (n.) the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Last Piece**

* * *

 _In Which Some Answers Are Given_

* * *

Between waking and dreaming lies a shadowed moment of stillness, and in that small infinity he drifted. He couldn't know how long it took him to claw his way back to true consciousness, but a weak and watery dawn was spreading light across the ceiling when he opened his eyes. He blinked. The room was brighter when he opened his eyes again. The light had reached the wall. Disoriented, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes roaming around the room, taking in information even as he struggled to process it. There was a rose on the bedside table. He reached for it, but stopped halfway through to stare at his hand. He was sure there was something wrong with it, but he couldn't think of what it was. He was having difficulty thinking much of anything, actually. His mind… itched.

Thorns pricked his fingers as he spun the rose, drawing bright spots of blood. Acting on reflex, or perhaps instinct, he moved the rose to his other hand and licked the pad of his thumb. Copper and iron bloomed on his tongue, and he focused on that, letting his mind return from wherever it had wandered. Patience. Patience brought answers, even from himself. And, as so often happened, his patience was rewarded. Answers trickled back as he spun the rose like a student would a pen, flicking the stem through his fingers faster and faster as he thought.

Kurama. His name was Kurama, and it was also Shuuichi. He was _youkai,_ and also _ningen_. Both. Either. Neither. He would consider it an interesting thought experiment, if it weren't his life. And… there was a barrier, a _kekkai_ in his soul, that forbid him true answers. And rightly so. As long as his mind remained intact, he could survive anything, but if the _kekkai_ came down too quickly, too soon, he would lose that guarantee. The _kekkai_ was already crumbling. Patience would give him what he wanted, what he needed. Except…

Still his mind itched. His fingers tapped along the bed. He stopped them, let his attention wander to the door, and stopped them again. No, not the door, the door would be watched. The rose disappeared from his hand as he stood, moving to the window. Breaking _out_ was inevitably easier than breaking _in_ , and he'd snuck out so many times that his hands and feet found grooves and notches and branches in the aging oak tree like old friends. He wouldn't go far, but he couldn't be surrounded by rock and concrete and dead wood, not right now.

Down one tree and up another, and finally, finally the tension drained out of him. He leaned back along a favored branch, sturdy and strong and cradling him like Mother's (which Mother? Both, either, neither?) arms. Red-orange leaves drifted around him, giving him cover. The rose reappeared from behind his ear, and he picked up the spin again, bloom cradled against his palm, flicked over his thumb so he held the stem like a pen, then back down. Down, around, up, down, around, up, an arc of red, and green, and red again.

He stared at his hand as if it belonged to someone else, letting his eyes unfocus, encouraging his mind to follow the circle. Focus on everything and nothing, and follow down, downdowndown… follow the spiral to the source with that single question in mind.

 _What was I thinking when I made the_ kekkai _?_

* * *

Pain. Sharper, pointed in his leg. The arrow, but that he could put out of his mind. He'd run on a broken ankle before, and this wasn't as bad. But there was heat against his back, the reek of burnt flesh in his nose and coating the back of his throat. The agony took a split second longer, and even he couldn't hold back the scream. His legs collapsed under him, and he fell, arms falling at awkward angles in the dirt. His vision was going dark at the edges because of the pain, but he had to keep running, had to get away, _hadtogetaway_. Ahead of him, he saw Kuronue stop and start to turn back. _No, Kuronue, keep running! I'll find you, I'll catch up—_ he couldn't even twitch a finger. The strike had snapped his neck. He couldn't even _feel_ the burns on his back anymore. Even if, by some miracle, he survived this, he'd never move again. _Good as dead_ , he thought, and could have laughed if laughing didn't take muscles in the stomach he couldn't use and breath he didn't have. Two, three seconds, and he'd _really_ be dead, everything that made him himself, all his ambition and intelligence and drive and that tiny, blooming seed of trust and affection… all of it would be gone, gone with his soul back to _Reikai_. Back to _Reikai,_ when he'd left so long ago and sworn never to go back. Never.

Soul. Back. _Oh_.

Gods knew he hated gambling, and this? This was a gamble. But he didn't have a choice—and as always when he didn't have a choice, he was playing with a stacked deck. If only he were in his fox form—oh, if only, if only, how much easier this would be when he were already half spirit!—but it didn't matter. He wouldn't _let_ it matter. He closed his eyes, dredging up old, old memories of what his mother had taught him in the temple, and ripped Himself free of his _youkai_ body.

Agony. He'd thought the strike had been agony. He had been wrong, so very, very wrong. Teeth didn't exist; he grit them. Breath wasn't needed; he panted through the pain. The edges of his mindselfspiritkisoul were dissolving. He had no legs to run with, no muscles to push harder, no lungs to expand with breath to drive him on, on, on. He fled anyway, passing through Kuronue ( _oh my Kuronue don't do anything stupid wait for me please wait for me I'm so sorry so so so sorry my Kuronue I will come back to you I will come back please wait for me please wait please live live live live)_ and bamboo and his murderers ( _he'll kill you for this death comes for you you're about to die enjoy your last few seconds let them be as painful as mine were he'll kill you he'll kill you and I will laugh)_ , shooting away from the carnage and onwards.

Two things needed. A body, and time to recover. Even with every iota of his will power focused on keeping himself together, he'd shredded something, broken something, pulling out of his body like that. Just a possession might not be enough. He needed his own body, a new body—

The world dented _,_ and twisted _,_ and when it hammered itself out again into a recognizable shape he was over a city unlike anything he'd seen before. _Ningenkai_? He must have gotten caught up in the portal just as it was opening… He'd never been to _Ningenkai_ before, in all his years…

No, focus! He could feel himself drifting, feel the trembling and shaking like he would fly apart. He didn't have long, and if he got distracted—well, he was gambling more than his life on this.

A body. Focus. He needed a body. There was a hum of _reiki_ over the city, the background noise and chatter of _ningen_ as they went about their lives, willfully blind to so much and so many. Strangely innocent, in their own way. He needed a new body, a body he could make his own. Children's souls were too new, too strong. The elderly were too old, and wouldn't give him enough time to heal. Adults were entrenched in their ways, and a personality change would be noticed, questioned. He noted a scattered handful of brighter spots—this man, this woman, this child—but they were even worse, turning as if someone had tapped their shoulder, or shivering as he passed.

He was going to die here. No, not die. A fate worse than death, his soul would rip itself apart, scattered to the four winds. He would cease to exist… Even now, he was beginning to drift. How long had it been?

A flare of light—of _reiki_ —below him caught his attention, and he drifted closer. She was different, he could sense it immediately, but he couldn't place how, or why. He was too tired. He couldn't think… He listened to the sound of her soul, a clear chime, like a beautiful bell, ringing on, and on, and on.

Delirium, a small part of himself noted. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

Another note sang counterpoint to hers, minor key shining sadness into her eyes, and he finally processed what his senses had been telling him from the beginning. The woman was pregnant. There was a tiny, flickering kernel of _reiki_ in her womb, in danger every day of going out.

If he'd had breath, lungs, eyes, tears, he would have sobbed with relief. This woman was his salvation, the solution he'd been so desperate for. Without a second's consideration for the life of the child, he threw himself forward, seeking the flicker and bracing it, stroking it, stoking it until it burned steadily, if dimly. The body was tiny, as yet undeveloped, but he settled into it anyway, letting his mind and soul readjust to the weight and mass of having a physical form.

It helped. Oh, gods, it helped like rain to a parched plant, but he was still so exhausted… the realization came slowly, so slowly, that it wouldn't be enough. He was still too tired. He could feel memory slipping away still, seeping out of his soul like blood from his body. True, the tattered and frayed edges were slowly stitching themselves together, as he'd known they would, but it wouldn't be _enough_.

What more could he do?

Give it a chance. Give it _time._ Even without his conscious direction, his _youki_ would return. His soul could heal, if confined… shielded. He collected memory, folding the edges of his soul together and clutching until nothing drifted, nothing bled, nothing dissolved. He gathered together the final threads of his _youki_ , wrapping it carefully around his soul.

There were secrets he had kept, so many secrets, and this was one of them. The _kekkai_ flickered into existence, the physical manifestation of his _youki,_ memory and knowledge and his power on one side, and on the other… what? He didn't know. He didn't know what made Himself when everything he thought he was was locked away. He didn't know if it mattered…

He'd have years to figure it out.

* * *

A door slammed from inside the house, and Kurama jumped. He made a wild grab for both the branch of the cherry tree and the rose, scraping the palm of one hand and driving thorns deep into the flesh of the other. He was still a little disoriented, though that was entirely due to the self-induced trance, and that was slowly fading in the face of the very sharp pain in his hand. _Nothing to help force you to focus like a little pain,_ Kurama thought, wincing as he pried the thorns out of his palm. _Though that is a very unhealthy coping mechanism._

Kurama tilted his head towards the house, listening intently to the sounds of movement inside and flicking mentally through his options. If someone had attacked his mother… It sounded like someone was shouting— _so why_ , Kurama wondered, _am I relaxed?_

 _"—nail his damned feet to the floor, slippery sneak that he is—_ "

 _Ah_ , Kurama laughed silently to himself. Of course. He hadn't even realized he'd recognized Kuronue's voice. And perhaps… Kurama closed his eyes, breathing deeply to center himself again. Yes, _reiki_ from his mother—worryingly strong _reiki_ , in fact—and a muted burn from Kuronue (weaker than it should be, but he was shielding himself, of course), and no one else. It was simply confirmation of what he had already known, somehow. He _really_ needed to test his abilities, and soon, so that he knew precisely what he was and was not capable of.

This time the front door slammed, and Kuronue stormed out, hands clenched at his side and muttering fiercely. "I'll find him and drag him back by the hair, I swear to all the gods—"

Kurama shrunk the rose to a seed, pushing hair out of his face in an old, familiar gesture. Rootlings unwound themselves from the seed to tangle in the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, ready at any point he should need it. On the sidewalk, Kuronue froze, and turned to stare at the cherry tree Kurama had been sitting in. Even that flicker of _youki_ was enough to catch his attention. Kurama jumped, landing lightly on the ground. It was only then that he noticed he was barefoot and still wearing his bloodied uniform from yesterday, as well as a leather jacket that he recognized as belonging to Kuronue. _I should have changed, though admittedly I wasn't really thinking of it at the time…_

Kurama couldn't think of what to say, an unfamiliar feeling. He doubted it was any more familiar during his last life, though he couldn't remember properly. Not yet. He opened his mouth anyway, but faltered when Kuronue swung up a hand in the universal gesture for _stop_. "I haven't decided if I'm going to hit you or hug you yet, and I'm not letting you say a word until I do."

Green eyes flicked over Kuronue and the space between them, and as serious as he knew the threat to be, he also knew he had a spare second or two for Kuronue to close distance and make good on it. "Why not?"

"Because you'd make the decision for me, dammit!" Kuronue stalked forward and seized his upper arm, dragging him around the side of the house into the garden. "Don't think I don't know _exactly_ what you're doing."

"I expected you to," Kurama said, and smiled. "You're going to know me better than I know myself, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question, though he had meant for it to be.

Kuronue growled, a deep rumbling in his chest that could never be mistaken for human. He halted and pulled Kurama around to face him. At least they weren't in the front walk anymore, and the fence shielded them from prying eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

It took a great deal to take Kurama by surprise. That single sentence did it. "Kuronue—"

"Did you think it was _funny_? Asking questions about yourself, and—"

Kuronue hadn't let go of his arm, which made it easy to surge forward and cover his mouth with one hand. " _I did not know,"_ he said, fierce and vehement and furious that his Kuronue could ever think that of him. "Kuronue, listen to me. Until last night, I did not know. I'll swear it on whatever you trust me to hold sacred. I did not tell you because I could not. I did not lie to you about my reasons for asking questions. You interested me, and Kurama was important to you. I could see you grieving. Worse, I could see you holding your grief in because it was dangerous for you to show it."

They stared at each other with scant centimeters between them, eyes locked. Kurama had wrapped Kuronue's braid around one hand, pulling him down so that they were closer to eye level—he'd been a good deal taller in his last life. Now the top of his head just came level with Kuronue's chin. Unfortunate, but temporary: this body was fifteen and still, surely, had growing to do. Close as they were, he could see the tension relax around Kuronue's eyes as he listened. It still only gave Kurama a split second's warning before warm, slimy, wetness slid across his palm, and he—well, _yipped_ was probably the closest word for the sound Kurama made as he yanked his hand away from Kuronue's mouth and scrubbed it on his trousers. "You _licked_ me!" His voice broke. Damn puberty. "I can't believe you licked me! You utterly immature—!"

Kuronue hugged him, tightly enough to pinion Kurama's arms to his sides and he couldn't break free if he tried. He didn't try. He didn't really want to, after all, though with his hands locked in place it was impossible to hug Kuronue back. His head dropped to lean against Kuronue's shoulder, and he sighed. "Not going to hit me, then?"

"I should," Kuronue whispered. Kurama suspected there would be tears in Kuronue's eyes if he looked up, and didn't. "Gods, I should. I _missed_ you, Kurama."

Kurama thought back to the single memory he had teased from his mind, edges too bright and strained and painful, the panic and terror he'd felt. Mostly for himself, yes, but there was still that small, growing, secretly nurtured part of him that was always focused on Kuronue… By every definition, Kurama had died in that bamboo grove. He had abandoned his only true friend just to save his own skin. He'd left so he would be able to come back, yes. He could only hope it was enough to balance out _choosing_ to leave. "I know," he breathed so he wouldn't say _I'm sorry,_ his eyes drifting shut. He pulled back as Kuronue's grip loosened enough that he could bring his hands up to Kuronue's shoulders. "Kuronue, I didn't know until last night," he started.

"I believe you," Kuronue assured him, a helpless, fond smile sneaking over his lips, so bright and happy that Kurama hated himself for a moment. He was about to take that away, but… it was necessary.

"Kuronue, I don't _remember._ I know, but I don't remember, and there is a huge difference." The smile slipped slightly, but didn't quite fall. "I know I am—or once was—Kurama. I know what I am capable of, and I know more about botany than I ever learned in school. I know bits and pieces about _Makai_ , languages, regions, the weaknesses and abilities of different _youkai_. About… you. But I don't have true memories." Kuronue had started to frown now, pulling away.

"What do you mean?"

Kurama dragged one hand through his hair, fingers brushing the rose bud like a worry stone. "I know you play with your necklace when you're worried and trying not to show it. But I don't remember where you got the necklace or what it looks like, or when I first noticed the habit, or a single specific instance. I know you do it, but I can't picture the movement or context. It's just a fact."

Kuronue nodded, and let go of the plastic bat dangling from his neck. "Why does that matter?"

Kurama took a deep breath. "Because I'm not the same person you missed." He studied Kuronue's face, waiting for the disappointment, the inevitable anger. "I can't be. I don't remember, and I'm starting to, but even then—Kuronue, being human, my mother—it's _changed_ me, I know it has, but I can't remember how much. I'm not who I was and I'm never going to be again _and_ _why are you laughing."_

It took a moment for Kuronue to regain control of himself, though he still hadn't stopped smiling. "No reason," he said, and reached out to tap Kurama lightly on the nose. His eyes crossed to follow his fingertip, before snapping back to Kuronue's face as he bristled. Not a good enough answer. "Just… you," he elaborated. "You being you. Whatever else has changed, I'll tell you one thing that hasn't—you still think _way_ too much. Nerd," he said, half-accusing, half-fond. It was practically an endearment.

Kurama wasn't going to think about that. "I am _not_."

Kuronue's grin widened. "Excuse me, _Minaminio Shuuichi_ , I followed you for two weeks and I didn't see a single thing in all that time to make me think otherwise." Kuronue reached toward him again, and Kurama swiped at his hand. This, of course, did nothing to dissuade him, though he hadn't really expected it to. "You're _blushing_ ," Kuronue informed him gleefully. "You _never_ blushed before."

"I'm irritated," Kurama said. "Not unusual for irritation to raise the color of one's skin. Kuronue, please try to be serious—"

"I am. You're Kurama. That's all that matters to me." He smiled again with that same distressing amount of affection and fondness. "You're going to be different? Of course you are. Fifteen years would change anyone. Even if you hadn't died, lost all memory of who you were, and grew up again as an entirely different species, you'd be different just because time passed." Kuronue slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him towards the deck chairs. "Though, speaking of, I am extremely interested in how you managed this." He thumbed one ear. One human shaped ear.

Kurama let Kuronue push him down to sit, waiting until he joined him before speaking again. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Last night?" Kuronue suggested. "I was under the impression that Horikawa was the only one who could break his control. And don't tell me you don't know what you did, I know you've got a theory, and knowing you it's probably right."

Kurama shrugged. "No one knows my own mind as well as I do. He could control only the surface. If I allowed it and moved my consciousness deeper, I could truly escape him." Like jumping out the third story window of a burning building when the doors were blocked, and just as dangerous.

Kuronue nodded, eyes distant. "That would explain it. Horikawa said you were interesting, that your mind was broken up and thinking of twenty different things at once. Sounds like he knew he couldn't truly hold you, and just didn't care."

"His mistake, and a fatal one." He remembered killing Horikawa. He couldn't bring himself to care about it. "Though I suppose I should thank him. The forced exploration of my own mind allowed me to learn what—or who—I was."

"Coerced soul searching," Kuronue said wryly, sprawling on the grass beside him. "Nice. So… what exactly did you do? How did you end up here? Possession?" He winced. "Sorry, forgot—do you even know?"

Kurama laughed without any real humor. "I snuck out this morning because I could not force myself to stay inside, and to try and get a few answers about that myself. It's the one memory I have." Kuronue's eyes had gone a bit sharper, listening intently. "It is a possession, but only in the broadest sense… I ripped my soul out of my body, quite literally killing myself rather than let someone else do it. I saw a slim chance, and I took it." He glanced at Kuronue, then down at his feet, toes brushing against the grass. "I possessed Minamino Shuuichi while he was still in the womb. The child's soul didn't stand a chance against me. Now? This is my body. I can no more separate from it than you could your wings—which I miss, by the way. Illusion?"

Kuronue ignored the attempted diversion in favor of propping himself up on one elbow, eyes fixed on his face. "You didn't kill him," he said, putting a finger on exactly what Kurama least wanted to talk about. "Kurama, listen to me. You didn't kill Shuuichi because there was nothing to kill. Your mom—" Kurama flinched, and Kuronue caught it, and repeated himself, prodding him in the leg to drive his point home, "Your _mother_ was going to miscarry. She would have lost the child because _Reikai_ never sent down a soul. And here you come, needing a body. The body was there, needing a soul." Kuronue paused, and then dropped back on the ground, flinging one arm over his eyes in the same movement. "How did I not see this earlier?"

"To my knowledge, it has never been done before." Kurama smiled, though it was brief and disappeared quickly. "You can't know that."

"Actually, I can. Koenma set me on Shuuichi's trail because as far as _Reikai_ can tell, you just didn't exist. Without you, there would never have been a Minamino Shuuichi. I know your mom's pretty glad you're here." Kuronue tossed him a smile, but it fell away far too quickly. "I just… I'm still not sure I understand. How did it work? Will power couldn't have gotten you that far…"

"What do you mean?"

"I was putting things together last night, though I didn't get as far as an identity until you took Horikawa's head off. But I finally figured out that you really did die rather than somehow surviving like I thought you had at first. I asked Botan some questions about souls, trying to see if I was right, and she said they were pretty much just instinct—well, she called them stupid. They can't _direct_ themselves, not the way you're talking about doing. And she's _shinigami._ So, she'd know, right?"

"Surely there are exceptions to that." An obvious deflection, but he didn't want to talk about it. The edges of memory were too sharp, and he knew this to be secret, even if he couldn't remember _why_ and _how._ The sooner the kekkai came down, the better, if only so he could shake the feeling of his own mind betraying him.

"Yeah. _Reikai_ ," Kuronue said, sitting up all the way. "Kurama. What aren't you telling me?"

Kurama sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "Do me a favor, first?" Kuronue raised one eyebrow, but nodded. "I don't trust my _ki_ yet. Will you check for eavesdroppers?"

Kuronue laughed. "Better paranoid than dead? The more things change…" He closed his eyes for a moment, little more than a slow blink, and nodded. "We're good. Your mother's still inside—patience of a saint, that one."

"Believe me, I know. I gave her more than enough trouble growing up…"

"Including running off without warning? She was a little surprised this morning, but not that worried."

"If I plan to be gone for more than a few hours, I leave a note," Kurama said, trying not to feel embarrassed. "But there's been more than one occasion when I just needed out."

"She said it had been a while since you'd escaped. Now, as you told me yesterday, avoidance is a cheap tactic. Kurama. Please."

Gods, it really had only been yesterday... "All right. All right… I don't remember—"

"But you know how you did it," Kuronue reminded him patiently, quietly. "You know how it was possible, and I know you. You wouldn't have taken the risk if you didn't think it had a better chance of working than anything else. I'm not looking for a story, Kurama, I just want to know facts."

Kurama ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. Facts it is. I asked you what the difference between _youko_ and _kitsune_ was, and you didn't know—which isn't that surprising, honestly. Most don't know there is a difference. _Kistune_ are _youkai_ affiliated with foxes and versed in illusion magic. When a common fox turns one hundred years old, it becomes a true _kitsune._ There are various clans in the _Makai_ that come together as a community and make sure this happens more often, but occasionally a fox in _Ningenkai_ will reach the appropriate age, if they are remarkably clever or resourceful or stubborn."

"And that's a _youko_?"

"No," Kurama shook his head. "That is still a _kitsune_ , though the clans of _Makai_ deny it. Their pride rejects the notion that they're really just descended from common, _Ningenkai_ foxes. _Youko_ are a subspecies of _kitsune_ —all _youko_ are _kitsune_ , but not all _kitsune_ are _youko_. Long ago there was a specific clan that studied _kekkai_ and _ki_ rather than illusion magic. Instead of red, brown, or gray coats, like most _kitsune,_ they were all pure white. Inari took them to _Reikai_ as messengers and servants aeons ago, long before I was ever born, and was the first to call them _youko_ —spirit fox." He glanced at Kuronue, who was listening quietly, eyes fixed on his face. "My mother—my _first_ mother, was true _youko_. My father was an earth elemental from _Makai_ , something of a nature spirit."

Kuronue squeezed his shoulder. "So... you're of _Reikai_?"

Kurama shrugged. "Half, though it might be more accurate to say a quarter. Enough to give me conscious control of my disembodied soul, in any case."

"There's more to it than that."

"There is, but..." He sighed, frustrated. "I cannot give you the story. I can't tell you how my parents met, or why I left. I can only give you the facts. Someday, I will know more, but for now…" He spread both hands. " _Youko_ are barely remembered in _Makai_ except as a rare kind of _kitsune_."

"So no one was going to tell you you weren't a _youko_ ," Kuronue said quietly. "And no one was going to know exactly what you were or were not capable of."

"Yes, I expect that's why I claimed to be full-blooded, though of course I can't remember details," Kurama agreed, propping his chin on his hands. "It can be discovered, but only if one knows enough to look—neither gray nor white, but silver. Plants, rather than pure energy. Neither _kitsune_ nor _youko_ , but something else entirely." He laughed. "Both and neither, as I still am. _Ningen_ and _youkai_. Shuuichi and Kurama. Of course I would be caught betwixt again. It seems I cannot exist otherwise."

Kuronue reached up again, this time to grip the back of his neck, thumb rubbing lightly at tension found there. "At least you do still exist," he said, "So do me a favor and stop angsting for a few minutes? You're alive. I'm here. And like I said before, you're _Kurama_. As far as I'm concerned that's all that matters. We'll figure everything else out as it comes."

Kurama relaxed and let himself fall sideways, resting his head on Kuronue's shoulder. "I'm glad I'm here, too," he admitted after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "Now," he added, sitting up and stretching. "Let's make sure it stays that way."

"Oh no," Kuronue drawled, a grin sneaking over his face as he watched him stand. "You're plotting something."

"Oh, I've an idea or two," he said lightly, smiling and offering his friend a hand up. "First, I need to go talk to my mother and reassure her that I am okay, and I would _really_ like to change into something besides yesterday's uniform."

"It does clash with the hair, a little," Kuronue said. "Not that it isn't very nice hair. And after that?"

"Do you know how to contact Koenma?"

Kuronue went very still, looking at him warily. "Why?"

Kurama's smile widened, catching between mischievous and feral. "Because I'm going to turn myself in."

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

Welcome to "Storm101 messes with bits of Japanese mythology to try and fill plot holes." Some of what's stated here (and in the last chapter) is true to what I could learn of the traditions. Most of it is not. I'm sort of trying to answer the question here of, if it's possible for youkai to possess a human in utero (as we know Kurama does), then why don't we at least hear of this being done before and why is everyone so surprised and/or unsettled that Kurama has? What Kurama does... isn't possession. So, what the hell is it, and _how did he pull this off, dammit, give me answers Togashi-san._ Which he won't. So I have to make up my own! Whee~!

Seriously, though, the inconsistencies with Kurama drive me up the wall. When he's first introduced, they say Kurama is an alias and that he's a "master of disguise," which, okay, would make sense if he were an illusionist of some sort. They establish he's not human, and Kurama explains he's a fox, specifically. Again, would fit with illusion. (And in the flashback, he's in fox form when he gets almost killed, which is why I'm saying it was easier for him to rip himself out of his body like that). But we never actually see his fighting skills or abilities? Until he shows up with the whole Saint Beasts arc. At which point Koenma (who presumably has no idea that Kurama is the infamous king of thieves youko Kurama because otherwise he would not be nearly so casual about throwing his newest spirit detective at THAT, seriously, Koenma.) Anyway, when he uses the rosewhip, it's described as something that nature elementals are capable of doing (at least, that's what my admittedly sometimes faulty memory says). So... what? Excuse me? What are you doing? Are you just ret-conning everything you just told us during the Three Treasures plot? Kitsune don't wield plants. Illusions. Fire. Shapeshifting. But not plants. ARGH.

(Side note but I _wish_ we saw other kitsune in the series proper just so I'd know if Kurama is as much of an oddball as I suspect or if Togashi just ignored 95% of kitsune lore.)

Another thing. White kitsune are _always_ benevolent and _always_ messengers of Inari. Gray, red, brown, and (I think?) black foxes exist, but Kurama's not any of those things. Silver. Ffffff. Again, is Kurama just weird or is Togashi just making things up as he goes?

(Shh I know he's probably just making it up as he goes but assuming it isn't and figuring out how it works was fun.)

Plus I really liked the idea of Kurama always being stuck between two natures, somehow, and never really settling or having a _place_ until Shiori. Except now he doesn't have that place anymore because he's just found out he never actually had it. And so begins the identity issues Kurama definitely has.

Tell me what you think! Considering how huge this chapter is, plot and world-building wise, I hope it lived up to expectations and that you all enjoyed it. Let me know!

* * *

 **Anonymous Review Responses!**

 **Llonella:** Teasing Shuuichi is always lots of fun. I _love_ the friendship between Shuuichi, Yusuke, and Kuwabara. They're just so much fun to write.

 **Fox:** Shiori absolutely fascinates me and I want to write more fic with her. We know practically nothing about her, but seeing how extremely important she is to Kurama is just... I _have_ to wonder if he would have changed that much for someone else. And how much Shiori knows. And how much she isn't telling. I just... waaaaaaaaaa, Togashi-san, tell me she finds out and is okay with it, pleeeeease. (Though I have one fic idea I'd love to poke at where she finds out and is not okay with it at all... Unrelated to this, but it could be fun?)

Thanks to **Zolata, TiaKay, Ryanne7, Samjok-o,** and **Unita** as well, for their reviews on this last chapter!

See you all next week.


	18. Another Ending

See End of chapter for notes.

* * *

 _Quatervois (origin French):_ (n.) a crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Another Ending**

* * *

 _In Which a Different Career Begins_

* * *

 _Roll call,_ Kuronue thought wryly from his place at the kitchen table, straddling one of Kuwabara's chairs and propping his arms on the back. Kuwabara leaned against the door, chin on his hands and elbows on his knees, mouth shut but with a stubborn glint in his eyes that Kuronue recognized. _One delinquent who is not as stupid as he looks._ Botan had folded herself into the corner of the counters, a familiar looking briefcase propped at her feet, and expression wavering between nerves and frustration. _One_ shinigami _who isn't sure what's going on but looks close to whacking someone with her oar to get answers._ Yusuke was on his feet, arms crossed and glare in full effect. _One detective who is not about to back down from a fight._

And, of course, Kurama. _Who if I'm any judge, was not expecting to run into this level of bull-headed loyalty. Not at all._ The redhead in question was rubbing at his temples with thumb and forefinger, palm covering his eyes, and Kuronue suspected this was more to conceal his expression than to ward off a headache. "I need to speak to Koenma alone," he said slowly, for the fifth time since Yusuke had confronted him soon after they'd arrived at Kuwabara's house. (The logic running thus: Kuwabara was most likely to know how to contact Yusuke, and Yusuke was most likely to know how to contact Koenma or, failing that, Botan, and thus calling ahead to try and arrange a meeting should be successful.)

"And I already told you, I'm not letting that happen, Shuuichi," Yusuke said, also for the fifth time. "And yes, I am going to be stubborn about this, and yes, I already heard you promise explanations after this conversation!"

"Then _why—_ "

"Because you're my friend and you're not going into a fight without some gods-be-damned backup!"

Kurama's hand dropped from his eyes to his mouth, then away entirely, mirroring Yusuke's crossed arms. "It's not a _fight,_ Yusuke," he said after a beat of silence. _Heh, at least the argument's not going in circles anymore,_ Kuronue mused, noting the way his fingers twitched in the crook of his arm, the carefully blank expression. No, Kurama hadn't been expecting any sort of loyalty, let alone a bold declaration of friendship. As smart as Kurama was, he still didn't know what to do with affection or genuine emotion except manipulate it, so when it came from people he actually liked and-slash-or respected… well, a confused Kurama was _always_ entertaining.

"Yeah? Try that one again. I still won't believe it." Yusuke didn't seem to realize he'd managed to surprise him, or how rare that was. Kuronue savored it for him, filing away the new, tiny tells for future reference. He'd been able to read silver-Kurama, but red-Kurama had a few differences, and he _would_ learn them all over again.

Kuronue stood by what he said in the garden; Kurama was Kurama, and that was all there was too it. But Kurama had been right about a few things as well. Kuronue kept seeing flashes of a human teenager leaking through the poised self-assurance he remembered so well. In the quick kiss he'd given his mother before they'd left, in the irritation when he couldn't find a brush in less than five seconds, in the half-heard mutter about homework… But then, hadn't the reverse been just as true? He'd known there was something a little bit different about Shuuichi, the way he could play with words so that he never actually lied but gave a listener the precisely wrong impression, the detachment and calculated empathy when he was fishing for information, the _way_ he said things, as Shiori put it… Those came from having the soul of a millennia old youkai.

 _…caught betwixt…_

And this wasn't a new state of being for him, either. Oh, _man_. Kuronue had never expected that other little revelation—they'd never talked to each other about their families or their pasts, not really. Though Kuronue had sometimes mentioned his parents or his clan in passing, Kurama never had. And he couldn't even ask why Kurama had never told him, because he probably didn't remember… or remember if there were any other secrets. Kurama did not trust easily. That he'd had any of that trust… Well, magical paper from Reikai didn't burn that well, but there was a reason that file had stayed locked in his desk drawer. Shredder. Try shredder. Or maybe Koenma would just take it back. And he finally _had_ told Kuronue part of his history, and he'd probably tell him more, maybe, so it wasn't as if he still needed it… But how much of his reasoning was because he trusted him, and how much of it was because he was on some level a teenage human boy desperately needing support? Things to think about—but later.

Kurama took a deep breath, visibly scraping together his patience. "It is not a fight as you think of them, Yusuke—"

"I know that!" Yusuke interrupted throwing his hands up into the air. "I don't expect to be any help. Hell, I probably won't understand a third of what you two will talk about, and I don't care! I don't care if I sit quietly in the corner and don't say a word, but I am _going_ to be there." They glared at each other. "I am going to sit there and support you because you are my _friend_ ," he reiterated, jabbing a finger in the redhead's direction. "I know you're a genius, so stop being stupid about this!"

Kurama looked away, meeting Kuronue's eyes in a clear request for help. Kuronue shrugged and shook his head. "Nope, sorry, Shuuichi. I'm with Yusuke on this one."

The redhead groaned and closed his eyes. "Kuwabara?" he asked, though the defeat in his voice said he didn't expect much.

Kuwabara was silent for a few seconds, chewing industriously on the inside of his cheek. "You didn't think we were real friends, did you? I mean, sure, you liked us and hung out with us and fought with us, but… you didn't think we'd have your back you just 'cause it's _you_."

Dead silence. _Kuwabara may look stupid, and act stupid, but damn if he isn't intuitive_ , Kuronue mused, resting his chin on folded hands and hooking ankles around his chair. Kurama's hands formed fists at his sides, and though _koumori_ were best known for their hearing, any youkai would have picked up the scent of blood as his nails dug into his palms. Yusuke looked darkly furious, though, like he was about to start yelling again, or possibly haul off and break Kurama's jaw, so Kuronue picked himself up off the chair and let it clatter against the tiled floor, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. "Eh, we already knew he was a paranoid bastard with trust issues," he said lightly, snagging the briefcase on his way to the couch and nudging Kurama's shoulder with his own. "Though I am a _little_ insulted you didn't see this coming. Oi, Botan, how does this thing work?"

"Fine," Kurama muttered, and repeated himself, more loudly. "Fine! But I _do_ need you _all_ to swear to me you will be quiet." He locked eyes with Kuronue, who pressed one hand to his chest and widened his eyes, doing his best to silently convey _who, innocent old me?_ Kurama just quirked one eyebrow. " _Whatever happens,_ I need you to swear you won't say a word."

"Okay," Yusuke said, though he still sounded pissed. He plopped down onto the couch, arms crossed and glowering a hole into the carpet.

"Okay," Botan said, glancing between all of them. Kuronue couldn't tell if she was exasperated or nervous, but she opened the briefcase and put it on the floor, pressing a quick sequence of buttons that Kuronue missed. "Koenma- _sama?_ Um, about the trouble Yusuke called me about…" Kuronue shot the detective an amused look, and he shrugged, still sulking.

Koenma glanced around at them all, evaluating the situation, before turning his attention back to the _shinigami_. "Yes? What was it?"

"Well…" Botan hesitated.

Kurama took the opportunity to break in, dipping his head in Koenma's direction. "My apologies, Koenma- _sama_ , if Yusuke misled you in anyway. There is no trouble that I know of, though I did need to speak with you urgently. I asked Yusuke for his help because I knew of no other way of contacting you."

Koenma scowled as best as he could while still sucking on that pacifier. "What is it?"

"First, I believe there is a girl in my class who is a developing psychic, and I wanted to know how I might be permitted to help her?"

There was a pause as Koenma folded pudgy fingers under his chin. Kuronue tried not to smirk—good move, starting with something the other wouldn't suspect, _and_ flattering him by basically asking for permission. Shuuichi had been tenacious in his pursuit for answers; Koenma had probably suspected the direction this conversation would take as soon as he'd come on screen.

"Well," Koenma said slowly, "The best thing to do would be to get her a mentor of some sort. I might know of a few masters of _reiki_ who could help. Could you give me her name?"

"Kitajima Maaya," Kurama said, shoulders unknotting just a fraction. "Thank you very much, Koenma- _sama_. I wasn't certain of the best path."

"You're welcome. Were there any other questions you had for me?" Koenma said, already puffing up a little bit with the respect.

"No questions, as such," Kurama said easily, crossing his legs and relaxing against the side of the couch. "Though I do have a suggestion for you, if you would deign to hear it?"

A moment of hesitation only noticeable because Kuronue had been looking for it. "But of course," Koenma said, with all the grace and condescension of a monarch.

"I would highly recommend you allow me to join your growing team," Kurama said lightly.

Koenma sighed. "Well, I can't say I didn't expect that in one way or another," he said, half to himself. "Minamino- _san_ , as… commendable as your enthusiasm is, I cannot condone adding every lucky civilian who wants to involve themselves! I can barely justify Kuwabara, and I'm sorry to say, your lack of _reiki_ makes it absolutely impossible."

Kurama nodded, though his expression did not change. "Of course," he agreed easily. "But before you dismiss it out of hand, would you allow me to make my case?"

Kuronue could practically see the thought running through Koenma's head— _what's the harm, really? Nothing he says is going to change the facts—_ and had to bite his lip hard to prevent himself from smirking and giving away whatever game Kurama was playing. Silver-Kurama was too competent and (to be quite honest) downright intimidating to ever be underestimated. Red-Kurama, though… Well, he was milking the expectation for all it was worth. "I suppose you can make your argument, though I can't guarantee it will change anything."

"Your team is sorely lacking in areas that I am proficient in," Kurama said. "While you have a group of extremely capable fighters, you lack a medic who can be on site—Botan is quite the accomplished _reiki_ healer, but _reiki_ is not as effective at healing _youkai_ as it is for _ningen_." _Oh, and he missteps, how would ignorant little Shuuichi know that? Well, research and logic arguably, and you said you were going to turn yourself in… Eh, I'll only dock a few points. You'd better be able to pull this off, Kurama. Don't really fancy breaking you out of Reikai prison, but I will if I have to._ "She also cannot defend herself well enough to follow your team into the dangerous situations you must send them into. You would do well to have a fighter who also has some skill in healing."

"And you claim to be able to offer this?"

"Yes," Kurama said, ignoring Koenma's skepticism. "I am skilled with traditional medicines, particularly herblore, and am trained in first aid. But even without my healing skills, I believe you have use of me. What happens when you run into another obstacle like Watanabe? Yusuke is very adept at thinking on his feet and has the potential to be a great tactician, and Kuroji can fight strategically when he wishes to, but would you really pass up having one of the best strategists in the last millennia working for you?" Kuronue clapped a hand to his mouth to stop himself laughing. _Arrogant fox! That'll never change._

Koenma was sitting very still, eyes closed. "Both salient points. Is there anything else?"

"Consider it my first strategic suggestion, Koenma- _sama,_ when I say again: you want me on your team."

"How is that strategic?"

Kurama smiled. "It's an investment. If you hire me, you have under your command the most effective secret weapon I can imagine. Right now, as you say, I register to any sensitive— _ningen_ or _youkai_ or inhabitant of _Reikai—_ as a powerless human. Correct?" he glanced at Botan, who nodded uncertain confirmation. "In a year's time, that will no longer be the case. I think you might even see me as a threat. I am offering you the guarantee that I am on _your_ side when that happens."

"Minamino- _san_ , that is impossible. However much you practice—"

Kurama didn't move, didn't so much as twitch, but there was the slightest change—maybe in the air currents, maybe in the quality of light—and Botan stifled a gasp. "Koenma- _sama—_ "

"What? What happened?"

" _Youki_ ," Kurama said quietly, and that hint of coiling, deadly potential disappeared-though Kuronue noted with some amusement that the half-dead ornamental plant in the corner had put out about twenty new leaves. "In a year's time, I will have access to an incredible amount of _youki_ , as well as memories of how to use it. The power and experience, in short, of—oh, I believe _Reikai_ classified me as an upper B-class or low A-class at the time of my death."

"And you called _me_ overly dramatic," Kuronue muttered, slipping off the couch so that he could lean an elbow on Kurama's shoulder. "Hey, Koenma, guess what?" He smiled, all teeth. "Found him. And I think you'd better give in and let my _partner_ join up. He doesn't give up easily, and there's a pretty useful phrase that applies here—something about enemies and friends and keeping 'em close?"

Koenma had gone very quiet, very still, and very pale. "Kurama and Kuronue." There was an audible gulp from Botan. "Very well."

"Koenma- _sama,_ are you sure—"

"He's right," Koenma bit out, though the words looked as if they physically pained him. "Better under our command than off wreaking havoc, and it's not as if we haven't already hired criminals. They've _got_ precedent. Though I want to know one thing," he added, meeting Kurama's gaze steadily. "You were killed on orders from _Reikai_. It has always been said that the _youko_ Kurama was intelligent and harder to trap than the wind itself. What possessed you to ask to work _with_ us?"

Kurama blinked slowly, considering the question, and gave a casual shrug. "For the same reason you are willing to hire me," he said at last, though Kuronue doubted that was even a tenth of it. _Oh, we are_ so _having a Talk later._ "Do we have an accord?"

"Yes. Botan, I expect you to report as soon as possible, understood?"

"Um—yes. Yes, sir," she said. The screen flickered into darkness, and she stood, smoothing down her pink kimono with jerky, absent-minded moments. "This—oh, I knew you were going to be trouble!" she accused, glaring down at Kurama with both hands on her hips, and then turning that same glare on him. "And you! _Kuronue_ himself, I could just—" Yusuke snickered. "And don't get me started on you, Yusuke! You should have told me! I know you knew! Ohhh, _boys!"_ She gathered up the briefcase and stormed out the backdoor, summoning her oar as soon as she was outside and floating up out of sight.

Kurama shifted away so that Kuronue fell forward, only avoiding colliding with the floor by half-landing in his lap. "You promised you would be quiet," he said severely, apparently unaffected by the shoulder and elbow digging into his thigh.

Kuronue untangled himself with as much dignity as possible. "Excuse me, _Yusuke_ promised. I never said a word. And you weren't going to tell him who I was, were you?"

Green met indigo and held steady. "Of course not. Your cover, your choice," he said simply. "Yusuke," he added, looking over Kuronue's shoulder. "What you said before… and what I didn't say. I…" he pursed his lips. "Kuronue's right. I don't trust easily, and I am unused to having the support of many people, particularly those I have only known for a short time, without having to manipulate them into it. I will not make the same mistake with you again. I'm…" Gritting his teeth, now. If he'd had those fox ears of his, they'd have been pinned back. "I'm sorry."

Yusuke seemed about as amused as Kuronue was, and shrugged. "Nah, we're good. You're a bit weird, you know that?"

"Weird is just the beginning," Kuwabara muttered, and shivered. "Man, Shuuichi, whatever you did when you were talking with Koenma…"

"My _youki_ is naturally suppressed by a _kekkai_ at the moment. I nudged the barrier to let some of it flow," Kurama explained easily.

"Well, it was _creepy_ ," Kuwabara said decisively.

"Ignore him, Kuwabara gets creeped out easily," Yusuke said, making a face when Kuwabara protested this. "Oh, hey, you still going by Shuuichi?"

The redhead hesitated a moment, thinking about it, and glanced at Kuronue before shaking his head. "If you could call me Shuuichi in public—especially around Mother—but otherwise…" He smiled, almost uncertain. "I'm Kurama to my friends."

Yusuke laughed, and leapt to his feet, offering the redhead a hand up. Kuronue watched them clasp hands and, though the thought was sentimental and therefore stupid, couldn't help but consider it a beginning. And when Kuwabara shook his head, and when Kuronue reached out and confirmed that yes, the _Jaganshi_ "I-don't-have-friends-I-have-allies" Hiei was hanging around in a tree a few blocks down and pointedly _not_ keeping an eye on them all, and when Kurama used his other hand to snag Kuronue's and tossed a satisfied, almost smug grin over his shoulder…

Well, those were all little beginnings, too.

* * *

 **A note on this chapter**

Well, we're slowly coming to an end on this story. I've said it before and I'll say it again: but I _really_ like the friendship between this lot. Also, I will probably wind up playing with this 'verse a bit more, whether through plot bunnies, a sequel or (hopefully!) both. There'll be an epilogue next week and then, well, that's all! It still astounds me that I actually managed to finish this thing...

Sorry this chapter is a tad late, by the way. Extenuating circumstances, real life, y'know how it is.

* * *

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 **Azula:** Surprising people is a lot of fun, and I'm glad to hear that I've surprised you. Spanish isn't my best language I'm afraid, but I think the phrase translates to "exceeds expectations" or "surpasses expectations." I'm really flattered that you think this is the best YuYu fic you've read! Kuronue doesn't get enough love (only good thing about the Poltergeist Report movie, in my opinion). Thank you so very, very much for your kind words! (Muchas gracias!)

And thank you, too, for my signed reviews from **Zolata, Samjok-o, TiaKay, CynoftheEnd** (great screenname, btw), **Ryanne7, aya2aya3, Ryou veRua,** and **Unita!**

One last post, y'all. See you next week for the epilogue!

(Also, note: This fic finally passed the review count for the last one, and is on it's way to being my first fic to break one hundred reviews. On the one hand, this is what happens when you actually finish things, Storm, but on the other hand _I love you all so much.)_


	19. Epilogue

See End of chapter for notes.

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 _Resfeber (origin Swedish):_ (n.) The restless race of the traveler's heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together; a "travel fever" that can manifest as illness

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Epilogue**

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 _In Which a Prince Does Not Regret Hiring Delinquents and Thieves_

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Two files lay on Koenma's desk, simple slim things in manila folders. They wouldn't have looked out of place in any _ningen_ corporate office. He flipped open one, then the other, scanning the information within briefly, before folding his hands under his chin and staring off into the distance.

"Am I really going to do this?" Koenma said quietly. His empty office didn't offer any answer, but he'd hardly expected one. He already knew the answer, after all. He'd known (or suspected) what he would have to do ever since Kuronue had turned up in his office under illusion and pseudonym, desperate to find his friend. If Kurama was alive, as all the evidence suggested… Well, the pair had danced around both _Reikai-_ and _Makai-_ made security systems like they were hardly there, gleefully making fools of his father's guards along the way. When it came to infiltration and retrieval, there were none better.

And because of the loyalty between the thieves (strange among _youkai_ ; stranger yet among criminals), having one meant eventually having the other. Though even Koenma would admit that he hadn't been expecting the events of last night; watching the powerless redhead suddenly flare bright with ancient _youki_ and round on the idiot who had attempted to entrap him… Thankfully he'd been watching the case alone in his office—the swearing alone would have blistered anyone else's ears. Hadn't _that_ been a revelation… and put his plans back by several more months, at the least, even as it opened up promising options.

Those plans were why Koenma had let Kuronue fool him, because he had a longer and more dangerous game in mind than simply fending off minor attacks among the _ningen_ population. Some of the cases his father tossed his way were… off. And had been for decades, perhaps even centuries. Koenma had always known that someday, he would have to actually _do_ something substantial about it. Something more than simple, subtle machinations. Something that destroyed his plausible deniability.

He closed both files again, stacked them neatly on top of each other and squared their corners, and rapped them lightly with an open palm. The stack doubled in height. He divided it again, checking to make sure that each stack had a copy of each file. He stamped each file in the second stack, ink cherry-red against creamy parchment. He cleaned his stamp carefully, placing it to the side, and retrieved a large, sturdy filing case and six DVDs from his desk drawer. Three of the DVDs were badly scratched, three looked new. He placed the unstamped files and the untouched DVDs in the case, labeled it _Quarterly Expenditures_ , and replaced it in his desk drawer. He gathered everything else up, hopped down from his chair, and went to the door. "I need these filed appropriately as soon as possible," he informed the ogre waiting outside. "And tell my father that he was right. _Youkai_ are an unreliable source, and it was a mistake to trust their information. I shouldn't have wasted time and resources chasing rumors about dead criminals."

The blue-green ogre took the files, glanced at them, and then glanced at them again. "Wait, these are—"

"Yes," Koenma said firmly. "There was a rumor, but it turned out to be an imposter. As I said, my father was right. Both the _youko_ and the _koumori_ are dead. If you could return them to their places, please." Koenma watched the ogre take off down the corridor, and shut the door, leaning against it tiredly.

He had crossed the Rubicon. His first steps against his father, the first tugs at a tangled knot he'd been ignoring for far too long… Something was wrong in the world some called Heaven, and if he were to learn what it was, he needed to protect a team that had _potential_ , if they were only given a chance. Declaring Kuronue dead, deliberately failing to join Kurama's file to Shuuichi's, and ensuring a few records were unreadable might just give them that chance. He needed the both of them able to move freely and legally. Burying the truth in paperwork… Well, occasionally being a bureaucrat paid off.

Something didn't _feel_ right, and he would not give up two _youkai_ who may yet give him his best chance at figuring out what it was. He could buy them time and freedom, and it would have to be enough.

Here's hoping he wouldn't get executed for treason…

* * *

 **A note on this chapter:**

There were some questions about Koenma and Reikai-related plot holes that I kind of just ignored because I had this planned from the beginning. Koenma is a character I feel doesn't get the chance to live up to his potential, even in canon. I have this sense that he's a lot more powerful than he lets on, and a lot more competent, too. And I wanted to explore some of that here.

I am _in love_ with how the manga series ends, and it's only different from the anime in like, the last few chapters, but it's this hugely significant thing... And that's the ending I'm (sort of) heading towards. There will be more of this 'verse, but it will take a while. Probably a _long_ while. But the manga ending and the "Three Kings" stuff are when I'm planning to set the sequel, timeline-wise. Hopefully this epilogue gives enough sense of closure that the long, long wait is okay, while leaving it open for the sequel.

And that's all she wrote.

...For now.

* * *

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Thanks to **TiaKay, Samjok-o, Zolata,** and **Unita** for your reviews on this last chapter!


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